Descent into the drowning darkness v2 Xover
by DitzCat
Summary: Ginny has had enough with rejection and patronization. She falls from grace, re-inventing herself. That always causes problems, especially when she stops being sweet innocent Ginny and escape her role.
1. Pushed

"I hate him." Ginny tasted the words as they flowed out of her into the empty room. "I hate him." So easy to say, yet a long time coming. She had been bruised for the last time. She had been rejected for the last time. She said the words again, fiercely. "I *hate* him. Hate him, hate him, hate him. . ." Her fists clenched, nails digging bloody crescent moons into her palms, bringing stinging tears of pain to her eyes. She hated Harry Potter. It was that easy. That. . .simple.  
  
Odd. Ron hadn't come to see what was wrong. He was probably laughing with Harry. Who would care about their little sister when their famous best friend was in the house? Famous selfish prick. Hate him. It was easier to say it now. Hate. Detest. Loathe. Despise. Abhor. Hate. It was a word that described her utterly. She could feel it like a black hole inside her, nibbling away at what she had been. Eating away her purity of spirit. Good.  
  
She was seventeen, dammit, and she wasn't going to act like a little girl anymore. She crossed carefully over to her desk and slid open a drawer. Time for an alteration. She was overdue for maturity. And her bedroom? It had to change. All pink and fluffy, yuck. The teddy bears, the flowers, the pretty print on the wall, all going. Rummaging in her drawer, she withdrew a black eyeliner pencil, black eyeshadow and black lipstick. Let her true colours show. Dark, dark, dark. Black as hate, black as sin, black as death. Death. Death to Harry Potter. Pleasant to contemplate.  
  
She carefully drew in the thick black lines under her eyes and softly dusted her eyelids with eyeshadow. Lipstick now. Hair. Wrong hair. Too long and too bright copper. She drew out her wand and darkened her hair right down to a deep blood red rather then the gingery colour it had been. She looked herself over in the mirror. A stranger stared back at her. An interesting, mysterious, mature looking stranger. She rose from her seat and stripped off her pretty little lilac wool knit dress.  
  
She drew on a clinging black satin top, and her black muggle jeans. Boots. She had boots. Big clunky black boots that reached halfway up her calves with black zips. Did she sense a theme here? She put them on and zipped them up. Last thing. A Gothic silver cross hanging on a thin black leather thong. She quickly ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a tight pony. It would do until she got it cut. Time to present her family with the new Ginny Weasley.  
  
"Ginny!" Run gasped as she walked down the stairs. "What have you done to your hair?"  
  
"Are you blind or just male? I changed the colour. I was thinking white, but blood red just called out to me." Ginny breezed past him and out the door. "I'm going out."  
  
"Where?" He was in front of her, stopping her. Her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Away." She pushed him to the side. "Tell Harry thanks for showing me a new direction, one that's more me."  
  
"Harry? What does Harry have to do with, with *this*?" Ron spluttered in confusion.  
  
"He opened my eyes. Do you think I should get inked? I was thinking maybe a scorpion on my hip." Ginny shrugged and went out. Harry was in the backyard, tending to his broom. God, he'd paid that stick more attention then he did her. She was well rid of that foolish delusion of teenage infatuation. His eyes started to drift over her, as they always did, and then he really saw her as she picked up her own broom. Not quite a Firebolt, but a respectable broom nonetheless.  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
"What? I am not in the mood, Potter," she hissed at him as she straddled the broomstick.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry about before. . ."  
  
"No, no you're not. You're trying to appease your conscience. Have to be the noble idiot, don't you, Potter? At least Malfoy is interesting to talk to. Maybe I should look him up," she mused absently as she lifted off the ground and hovered. "Anyway, going out." She soared over the hedge and into the sky above the clouds. Now she was out, where was she going? She cast a spell so she could continue breathing at this altitude. She lay back on the broom, her head cradled by the twigs. Bored. She was deadly bored. Wait, money, she had forgot money. She zoomed back to the ground again, landing at a run.  
  
She dropped her broom, ran upstairs, boots thumping on the wooden surfaces, grabbed her Gringotts card (thank Hecate they'd discovered credit cards!) and ran back out again, slipping it into her back pocket. Ron was standing over her broom, looking determined. What, no hero friend to back you up against the obviously bonkers little sister? Oh, you're such a manly man, Ronniekins.  
  
"You're not going anywhere, Ginny."  
  
"Oh, for the love of. . ." she muttered angrily. "Ron, step away from the broom, step away from the broom," she said in a high nasal voice, mimicking those strange muggle car alarms. He didn't. "I can hurt you," she said almost pleasantly as she took a step forward. "I punch hard, ask Fred."  
  
"Wha, what?"  
  
"Fred. I punched him. Once."  
  
"Why?" Ron seemed to be quite confused, ears as red as his hair the poor dear.  
  
"Do you remember Christmas last year? He put a truth potion in my drink. I was talking non-stop, total stream of consciousness. He thought it was hysterically funny, right up until I punched him and he nearly passed out." Ginny was sporting an evil little smile at her memories.  
  
"Why are you dressed like this?" Ron had obviously decided to bypass that and head to the thing he could maybe deal with.  
  
"Because I decided to grow up. Out with the old, in with the new. New look, new ideas, new everything. Maybe a new crush. Malfoy was looking very nice last term, f'r instance. Are you going to get off the broom now? I'm going shopping."  
  
"With what?" Ron asked contemptuously.  
  
"*My* money, my Gringotts card and me. You haven't noticed, have you?" Ginny said almost wonderingly, then a flare of anger surged through her. Some brother he was! "Dammit, Ron, you really are a bleeding pansy sometimes. Ponce. I had a job. Working, that thing you do so little of."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"At home. Typing, secretarial work. Owled in manuscripts, owled back typed documents. Surprised you missed the many owls, the clattering of typewriter keys and my moans from a sore back. But the money's good. Shoo, shopping now." She flapped her hands at him, but he stayed where he was, same look of mulish obstinacy on his face. "Go *away*, Ron."  
  
"No. Mum's not here, and you're not going out."  
  
"Fine, arsehole!" She turned and stomped off, on foot this time. "No, I can annoy you more if I'm here." She turned and went back inside the house, fuming. When she reached her bedroom, she turned up her CD player full ball and put on her Linkin Park CD. She started dancing, deliberately making noise. Sodding idjit. Grrrr.  
  
"GINNY!" She finally heard Ron shouting, and turned around, brown eyes spitting sparks.  
  
"What?!" She turned her CD player off. "Go and owl Hermoine or something. I'm sure it's all sexual tension."  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
"Is that all you can say? Ginny, Ginny, oh my goodness, Ginny. Quick, revert back to spineless mouse. Uh uh. Verge is here to stay. Hey, I like that. Verge, on the edge." Ginny ran her tongue around her idea of a new name.  
  
"It sounds stupid."  
  
"Bite me, Ron. Hard. On my arse. I'll even bend over for you." She reached over and turned her music back on. He tried to yell at her, but she ignored him. He threw his hands up eventually, and left in exasperation. Good. "I can not take this anymore. Saying everything I said before. All these words, they make no sense, I found bliss in ignorance, the less I hear, the less you say. . ." She started swaying. "Just like before. . .everything you say to me, sends me one closer to the edge, and I'm about to break! I need a little room to breathe, cos I'm one step closer to the edge, and I'm about to break! I find the answers aren't so clear, wish that I could find a way to disappear, all these thoughts they make no sense, I found bliss in ignorance, nothing seems to go away, over and over again. . ." She started jumping again. Oh yeah, this was fun. "I'm one step closer to the edge, and I'm about to break!"  
  
"Virginia Anne Weasley!" Ginny heard her mother trumpet as she reached over and turned the music off with a decisive click. "What on earth has got into you today?"  
  
"A spine?" Ginny asked sarcastically, as she turned her music back on. Molly turned it off. "Hey!"  
  
"The music is much too loud, and havens above, what have you done to your hair?" Molly fussed.  
  
"I changed the colour. You know, magic wand, poof! I was thinking of getting it cut, spiking it up. There was a picture. . ." Ginny flopped down on her bed and scrabbled down the side of it, soon retrieving a magazine. "Here." She flipped it open to the page as she sat up, and showed her mother the picture she'd been looking at before. A girl with short, tawny brown hair, spiked and scruffed. "Like this."  
  
"I don't think so, Ginny. Now, turn your hair back to its original colour."  
  
"No." Ginny's face went stubborn.  
  
"Fine. I'll do it."  
  
"Weirder shades coming up then," Ginny muttered as her mother waved her wand over her hair, returning it to its natural shade. She glowered after Molly as she left the room. "Sod." 


	2. Getting ready

Ginny waved at her mother and disappeared into the crowds of Diagon Alley. "I'll meet you at Flourish and Blotts in an hour or so!"  
  
"Alright, dear," Molly agreed absently. "Come on, Ron. You need new dress robes. And Harry, dear, we'll stop by Gringotts first.. . ."Ginny listened to her mother's voice fade away thankfully. Hairdressers. She knew she'd seen one the last time she'd come into Diagon Alley. . .there!  
  
Ginny slipped into the small, brightly lit shop. "Hello?" The woman cutting a girl's hair looked up. "I was wondering of I could get my hair cut and dyed today."  
  
"I'm nearly finished, and I don't have any clients until twelve. Sure thing, sweetie. Do you know what you want?" The woman didn't pause in her careful snipping.  
  
"Yep, I found a picture of it. It's from a muggle magazine, but you can get the general gist." The hairdresser finished styling the other girl's hair, took the photo from Ginny and studied it. "And I want to dye my hair blood red, like a really deep red red."  
  
"I can do that. You're done now, sweetie." The woman patted her previous client's shoulder absently. The girl got up, gathered her stuff and left.  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Mmm, dye and a haircut? 20 Galleons."  
  
"Fine. Have you got one of those new Gringotts card readers?"  
  
"Installed it the other day," she was told cheerfully. "Handy little things. You a student?"  
  
"Sixth year at Hogwarts. Here's my Gringotts card." Ginny handed it over.  
  
"I can give you a student's discount, which makes it 18 Galleons, rather then 20." The woman swiped Ginny's card.  
  
"Ok." Ginny leant over and told the machine her code. "Ginny." The card swiper beeped happily and deducted 18 Galleons from her account.  
  
"Well, sit down and let's get started."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Ginny walked out of the shop, feeling curiously naked without her long hair hanging down her back. The hairdresser had shown her how to use the gel to spike her hair, saying 'Muggles do know best about somethings. Don't trust your hair or make-up to your wand, unless you're really sure about what you're doing!' She had to admit the style suited her better then she had thought it would. As her mum would say, her face had acquired character, and the haircut made her now high and defined cheekbones stand out. She picked up the pace and went quickly to Flourish and Blotts.  
  
"Mum, I'm here," she called out as she saw her mother's back. "Like my hair?" Her mother's jaw dropped open in shock. "I think it looks good, and since I paid for it, it's staying. Right, textbooks." Ginny started to grab her books off the shelf.  
  
"Ginny. . ."  
  
"Yes, mum?" Ginny didn't pause in her text hunt.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"You would have stopped me, and it's my money to do as I like with. New look for the new school year. Considering I haven't done anything any of the time I've been at school, a flicker of rebellion strikes me as permissible." Ginny ran her hand along the spines of the books, and flicked out 'Transfiguration- 6th year spells', 'Alchemy- the ancient Art', and 'Herbology- Grow your own potion ingredients'. "Right. Now all I'm missing is my DADA text, my Arithmancy and Divinations." She bent back down again to look.  
  
"Harry!" A pleased female voice said, and Ginny looked up to see Hermoine bounce up and hug Harry. Hermoine was looking better this year, healthy light tan from her holidays. Brown frizzy hair and thankfully tamed teeth, eyes sparkling with happiness at being rejoined with her boyfriend, Ron, and her bestest best pal, Harry. Please excuse Ginny as she throws up in the corner. "How were your holidays at the Weasleys?"  
  
"Great, as usual. How were yours?"  
  
"I went to the country for a bit, but the best part was the course I did at the magical branch of Oxford. It was on Runes, and it was just excellent."  
  
"Hey, Hermoine." Ginny nodded at the taller girl and grinned at her surprised look. "Do you like it? I got it done this morning."  
  
"Wow, it really suits you. Brings out your eyes and your cheekbones. C'mon Harry, where's Ron?" Hermoine dragged Harry off to look for Ron. Ginny smiled and gave her books to her mother.  
  
"I found my textbooks, now I'm going to go try on some robes. I'll meet you at Madame Malkins."  
  
"Alright, Ginny dear. And now I'm over the shock, I have to say your new hairstyle actually does suit you. I'll just go buy these." Ginny watched her mother bustle off, arms full of books. Next thing. Ginny quickly turned and made her way out of the crowded bookshop before threading her way through Diagon Alley to look at new dress robes. Well, that had been easier then she'd thought it would be. And she still had over a hundred Galleons left. Having almost permanently hunched shoulders had been worth it. A small black kitten skittered across her path and she barely missed treading on it.  
  
"Watch it, little one." The kitten looked up at her through golden eyes, and then clung to her robes desperately. "Hey, don't you have an owner somewhere?"  
  
"Dammit!" Ginny knew her question had been answered as a furious male voice shouted. She felt the kitten shiver and slip under her robes. "Stupid cat." The warm body on her feet cowered. Ginny looked around for the owner of the voice and her eyes widened in surprise. Marcus Flint. Still easily recognisable by the absolutely shocking mouthful of teeth. Well, damn if she was letting the kitten go back to *him*. She stood still, pretending to be looking in her purse as Flint pushed past her roughly and continued to look for the kitten angrily.  
  
Ginny crouched down and scooped the kitten into her arms. "So, what do I do with you?" The kitten watched her wide eyed. It had the potential to be quite a beautiful cat, plushy pure jet fur and the most delightful tawny yellow eyes. Girl or boy? She checked under its tail as it buzzed protestingly at the indignity. Boy. "C'mon kitten." She put him in her pocket, and he licked her fingers gratefully. She headed out to Madame Malkins again. "I'll wait until I know you better before I name you, kitten." The kitten purred in agreement as she absently stroked his head.  
  
"Wait here, dear," one of Madame Malkins assistants fussed as she entered. Ginny did as she was told, sitting down at a chair and getting the kitten out to check it over. She hissed disapprovingly as her sensitive fingertips detected thicker areas of knitted together bones and the general thinness of the poor thing. She was gladder then ever that she had picked the poor thing up.  
  
"Evil, cruel bastard. Grrrr. . .If I could, pet, I'd hurt him for you." She could have sworn the kitten got a distinctly bloodthirsty and vengeful look in his golden eyes. "Ok, almost scary there." She tickled his stomach as he sprawled over her lap, buzzing happily. His black fur blended in almost perfectly with her black robes, and a slender paw toyed with the cuff of her sleeve. Definite cutie.  
  
"Oi, kid, give 'im back." Ginny looked up slowly, disdainfully, look of utter contempt frozen on her face. Flint. And she hadn't been seeing things; his teeth truly hadn't improved since Hogwarts. If anything, they were definitely yellower.  
  
"Prove he's yours."  
  
"Don't have to, he's *mine*. Hand him over, little girl." He loomed threateningly over her, probably thinking she would gasp and hand the cat over without further protest. Oh, you are so wrong about that, she thought angrily. Very, very wrong. He was trying to scare her with his physical presence, eyes narrowed, fists clenched. Oh, yawn. How trite. Ginny decided to make a fuss, very loudly.  
  
"What are you, some kind of pervert? I don't havta listen to that kind of language! Get away from me!" Flint was rapidly backing off, eyes widening in horror and shock as the petite red haired girl he'd thought would be easily bullied sent him packing. "Creep! I'm a student of Hogwarts, not some kind of prostitute!" Her booted foot lashed out and kicked him quite hard on the shin. The kitten yowled victoriously and made his own swipe with soft claws. Ginny watched with great satisfaction as Flint was escorted from the shop, and all the gossipy biddies started gabbling in horrified pleasure.  
  
Madame Malkin, eyes wide in horror at a potential loss of customer, apologised to Ginny constantly as Flint was booted out of the shop. "I'm so sorry, nothing like this has ever happened before."  
  
"That's alright, I was just a bit taken aback. I know it had nothing to do with you." Ginny smiled sweetly as the shop owner, who nodded in relief and went to look after her other customers. A slow handclap greeted her acting and Ginny turned to give that person a dirty look. "What?"  
  
"A wonderfully inventive way of ridding yourself of an annoyance. Blaise Zabini." The tall dark haired guy leaning against a wall introduced himself. He just screamed class, from his fitted robes, to the softly falling fringe of sooty hair that came over his forehead. His fingers were long and artistic looking. Snob.  
  
"Virginia Weasley," she said curtly. His delicately curved eyebrows went up. Damn it. Snob, snob, snobbity snob. "Gryffindor. And you're a Slytherin, so we really don' have much more to say to each other, do we?" She gave him a falsely pretty smile and got up as Madame Malkin came over to discuss her new robes. 


	3. Looking for the flame

Blaise made his way down the train carriage, checking for the one containing his Slytherin compatriots. Finding it, he slipped inside, greeting the other sevenths with a sharp nod as he closed the door behind him. "Draco, Pansy, Vortigern, Mordred." As usual, he ignored Crabbe and Goyle. They never thought anyway, so they did not deserve even nominal courtesy.  
  
"Any news?" Pansy leaned forward slightly, blue eyes gleaming with malice. As always, Pansy had a silver ribbon tying back her golden blonde hair in a deceptively innocent style. Blaise smiled slyly as he settled himself in his seat, crossing one leg neatly over the other. "You know something, don't you?"  
  
"Well, I saw someone I thought was insignificant send Marcus Flint retreating in terror. I saw a meek and mild pussycat grow claws of steel." Draco looked up sharply from his Potions text as Blaise continued on. "I saw a mouse roar at a serpent, and send the serpent away in shame."  
  
"Is there a name to this riddle?" Draco asked quietly.  
  
"We know of her. In her first year, she made a rather startling splash into our awareness. She went into darkness, and nearly was devoured mind, body and soul." Blaise watched Draco slowly come to an understanding of his thinly veiled riddles. Pansy was pouting because she wasn't. That was some pout, that was. It made her look all little girl winsome. . .pity it didn't work on him. He knew her too well. Blaise could see Vortigern quietly laughing to himself, and Mordred was about ready to snarl. Lovely. "We have all laughed at her. We have all tormented her, but I would not advise it this year. She's changed." The carriage fell into silence as the intelligent Slytherins contemplated what Blaise had said.  
  
"Stop talking in riddles, Zabini, and tell us her name," Pansy hissed finally as her patience snapped. Blaise smiled mockingly at her and closed his eyes.  
  
"She burns, a dark flame. Her name? She is Artemis, Hecate, Morgana, Lilith, Keridwen, she is the dark side of the moon. Ah, her name now is what you wish to know. . . Beg me, Pansy." His eyes slid open almost lazily to watch her outraged reaction. "Beg prettily."  
  
"He's dropped enough hints, you blonde," Mordred snarled as he uncoiled himself from his seat. "Ginny Weasley, the little red haired girl who sank and swam and survived." He glared at Pansy, who glared back, neither backing down. Draco shut his text with a decisive snap. "Stay out of it, dragon."  
  
"And let you rip her to pieces, wolf?"  
  
"If I was truly as you name me, she would be dead by now." Vortigern ran a hand soothingly through his twin's jet-black hair. "Brother, do not attempt to calm me."  
  
"An if I did not, thee would be cast out. Thou knowest thou art too rage filled. And thee would regret it later." Vortigern continued his soothing motions, chocolate brown eyes fixed on his black leather bound book.  
  
"Oh bloody hell, she isn't worth it." Mordred desisted with a sullen scowl and leant back into Vortigern's side. "Why do you always talk like a bleeding romance?"  
  
"Why dost thou speak so uncouth? Thy mother tongue deserves better then the ill usage thee puts it to. This quarrel we are bound to repeat, brother mine." Blue eyes meet brown, sooty black hair against golden sun, and Mordred laughed suddenly.  
  
"We are a pair. I'm glad I don't havta be the pretty boy half at least."  
  
"Hold thy tongue, packmate," Vortigern chided gently. "And let me return to my reading."  
  
"So, what are you reading this time?" Pansy asked, getting a nail file out of her bag and starting to absently do her nails.  
  
"The Prince, by Nicolae Machiavelli." The twins replied in unison.  
  
"When you two do that, it gives me the shivers. And not the good kind."  
  
"We are two halves of the same being. You talk to one of us, you talk to both of us," Mordred said disdainfully. "Honestly, you are such a stupid bitch." He rose supplely to his feet, shaking off his brother's restraining hand. "I'm going hunting for this fiery kitten. Coming, dragon?" Draco nodded in response to Mordred's question and stood, placing a bookmark in the pages of his book.  
  
"I find myself intrigued by Zabini's description," Draco admitted as he put his book down. He ran a hand through his silver blond hair, and a slow smile spread across the aristocratic planes of his face. "And I have been most bored."  
  
"I had better come as you won't recognise her otherwise." Blaise stood as well, and the three made their way down the corridor. Draco smirked as they reached the Prefects compartment.  
  
"I should just check in with my fellow prefects." Draco opened the door and looked in. Harry and Hermoine looked up, her Head Girl badge showing prominently against her black school robes. Harry scowled at Draco.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?"  
  
"Well, let me think. . .world domination, a Porsche, oh, and at the moment, your best friend's sister. Been told she's changed her image, and by Zabini's description, I am most inclined to be interested." Draco raised a thin eyebrow as Harry's face flushed with anger. Oh, this was fun. Getting the precious Boy-Who-Lived all het up and annoyed. . .very nice.  
  
"So, Potter, ready to lose at Quidditch again? Vort and I will be waiting, Bludgers all ready for you. Which limb do you want broken repeatedly this year?" Harry got slowly to his feet as the Slytherins needled him. His green eyes were sparking with anger, and his face had gone paler then usual, making the thin trace of scar visible under his scruffy fringe stand out more.  
  
"Harry, sit down." Hermoine grabbed Harry's arm and yanked him back down onto the seat. "Either be nice, or get out, Malfoy."  
  
"Hermoine, sweetling, do not rend us so with your cruel, harsh words!" Blaise jumped in, rolling his eyes melodramatically. Hermoine frowned at him. "Ready to leave that vagrant Weasley, and join me in delicious debauchery?"  
  
"Oh, Zabini, control your emotions," Draco deadpanned.  
  
"Why you do this every, every time, I just do *not* bleeding well understand," Mordred said in disgust.  
  
"That's because you're gay, Mordred," Blaise said helpfully.  
  
"Yeah, but she's a gryff. Can you ever imagine her taking it up the arse?" Mordred gave Hermoine a disdainful stare, and left abruptly as she spluttered in disgust and shock.  
  
"Good point," Blaise said thoughtfully, and then the two Slytherins left the Gryffindors to try and recover. Mordred stalked ahead of them, quickly checking through apartments. Blaise got ahead of him, looking for that blood red mop of hair and angry tawny brown eyes. He found her and quickly beckoned the other two to his side. They watched in silence until she noticed them, and looked up. 


	4. Finding almost friends

"Oh fine. Slytherins, ay? What the hell do you want? Whatever it is, I'm not interested, and you can all just sod off," Ginny snapped as she finally noticed their presence. Draco, she knew. How could anyone miss him? Tall, lithe body with a face angels would fall for, silver blond hair and grey eyes that shouted strength and mystery. Zabini, she'd met, however briefly. He almost reminded her of Tom, except his eyes were a dark chocolate brown. The guy behind them would be hulking, but he just managed to look very well muscled instead, with a lean wolfish type of face, and blazing blue eyes. Black hair hung shaggily over his face, and a five o'clock shadow covered his jaw, unlike the other two who were both clean-shaven. He was unknown to her, except. . . wasn't he a Beater on the Slytherin team? And he had lots of metal glinting from his ears. Um. Interesting. "Get bent," she said tersely as they didn't leave.  
  
"Pet, that I will be doing as soon as the Feast is over, so telling me to go get fucked by a man doesn't bother me all that much." Mordred laughed quietly. "Zabini is bi, and while Draco is straight, it wouldn't really bother him either. Better off telling it to your brother, might do him a world of good."  
  
"Sod off," she bit out, and looked back down at her book.  
  
"You weren't half wrong, Zabini, she is rather interesting," Draco purred as the three stepped into the compartment. Mordred slid the door shut behind them.  
  
"Does the inbreeding your families practice interfere with your hearing? Sod. Off."  
  
"How about. . .no?" Blaise planted himself firmly next to her, and then shot up again with a startled yelp as ten claws sunk into his leg. Ginny hid a smile as she calmly leant over and detached the growling kitten from his robes and his flesh. He retreated to the door, eyeing the cat warily.  
  
"Azrael, stop it." She tapped the kitten's nose firmly with the end of her finger. "You can eat the nasty Slytherins, and tear them into little messy pieces, *later*."  
  
"So, this is the kitten you scared Flint off for?" Blaise asked. Ginny nodded as she placed Azrael on her lap and petted his head.  
  
"I hope Flint's karma catches up to him." Ginny looked at them in confusion. "Why are you talking to me at all? Just little Ginny Weasley here. Everyone's been ignoring me since the Chamber of secrets and that unfortunate incident with the Basilisk. Gotten used to my invisibility, I have. So why are you here? Is this a plot to hurt Potter or Ron? Cos Potter won't care, and I wouldn't place money on Ron caring too much either."  
  
"Should be bleeding obvious," Modred said in his husky voice as he sat down across from her. Ginny thought crazily that it sounded like whisky poured over ice. Warm, yet cool and harsh with a biting sting hidden in it, that could break down all barriers and make you lost. "We're bored. You look like you'll break the monotony for a while." And there was the sting.  
  
"Ok, I'm a toy." Ginny nodded at her assessment, leaning back into the soft cushions.  
  
"Not a toy. Can't you sense it, Mordred, Draco? She's a flame to set the world alight. To set the world in collision. Kali, Artemis, Hecate. You're in touch with the darkness now. It's been hiding in you, growing, building and now you've let it loose. May I ask what unlocked you?" Blaise stared at her, brown eyes meeting hers with curiosity. Not even a hint of malice. Draco was leaning against the wall, but he looked interested, in a cool and distant way. Mordred reminded her of a dog she'd seen once, caged and furious at its imprisonment. Raging, she could almost hear the frenzied howling that she sensed lurked behind his pale blue eyes. They were so pale, the outside of the irises were ringed with black, throwing his eyes into high relief as he stared at her.  
  
"Potter, he's such a fool." Ginny sank back further into the cushions, hiding almost from their inquisitive eyes.  
  
"Oh, now this is nice." Mordred sat up as Draco sat down next to him, Blaise still standing in the doorway. "Potter has lost his little lapdog. Will you bite him now, bitch?"  
  
"Wolf, quiet," Draco ordered. "This will be more fun if she's whole. Maybe we can corrupt her."  
  
"Too late." Ginny could feel the room closing in around her as the three males took up all the breathing space, all the air. They exuded quiet menace, barely restrained. She almost laughed giddily as her frantic thoughts flooded her brain. "Oh, so far too late. As you said, been hiding." Blaise laughed suddenly.  
  
"Let's keep her, Draco. It will be just too amusing to see Potter's face when we start talking to her. He'll go berserk."  
  
"Yeah, he might not want me, but I'm still his property. Hate him for it. Hate. Azrael, listen to me, hate the great and noble Harry Potter. *Bastard*."  
  
"So, what did he do to *you*?" Draco asked.  
  
"I keep my dignity, you get to keep your limbs. So don't ask me again."  
  
"As you wish." Draco stood and half-bowed to her. "We must be going, but rest assured, we will be back."  
  
"Whatever." Ginny bent her eyes back down to her book, and ignored their quiet exit accompanied by the swish of black robes. Well, that was interesting. Scary, but interesting. 


	5. Showing new colours

Ginny unpacked quietly, Azrael sitting on her bed watching her. She hung up her robes, put her books on the shelf and put her family photos on her bureau. General settling in stuff. Her new room wasn't that different to her old one, maybe a bit larger. Gary red and gold glaring from every surface and chattering girls filling up every corner. Annoying, that's what it was. Ginny clicked her tongue at Azrael as she finished and he dropped off the bed fluidly to follow her as she descended into the crowded Common Room where everyone was catching up on what had gone on in the hols. She knew they whispered as she walked past, brown eyes underlined with black, face almost death white, black covering pink lips, hair teased and spiked and scruffed around her face. She sank down gracefully into a spare armchair and curled up into it, Azrael jumping up to lay his head by hers, chunky black boots exposed by her robes as he made a place for himself. He hissed at another cat, and she tousled his ears. "Calm, my demon. Be nice."  
  
He mewed complainingly at her. He liked to be known as the strong one once he'd recovered. He'd filled out, developed a cocky self-assured arrogance as his coat began to shine. Beaten all the neighbourhood cats to an inch of their nine lives, he was the one in control and they had better not forget it. Ginny smiled slightly as Azrael purred and relaxed under her soothing hand. He was marvellous in concentrating her magic as well. Quite the helpful little kitten.  
  
"Azrael, be a dear and get my cross, would you? I forgot it." He opened an eye at her request, sniffed and then jumped off to do it. She watched him thread through the students legs, hoping none of them did anything to provoke him. Azrael soon came back, head held high and silver cross clenched between his teeth. He clambered back up onto her lap and placed the cross delicately into her hand. "Thank you, Azrael." She placed the cross around her neck, fumbling slightly with the clasp and then Azrael noticed Harry. He laid his eyes flat against his skull and puffed up, mouth emitting warning hisses as Ron and Harry passed in front of them.  
  
"Hey Ginny." Harry nodded at her as if nothing had happened. Ginny came to a decision and let go of Azrael, who immediately threw himself in a whirlwind of hissing, spitting, clawing fury, voicing yowls of anticipated triumph. "OW!" Ginny watched him calmly as Azrael swarmed over him, never staying still long enough to be caught as Ron and Hermoine tried to help Harry.  
  
"Azrael, enough." Ginny finally called him off and Azrael flowed to the ground, carrying a scrap of Harry's robes proudly in his mouth. He gently deposited it in her hand, golden eyes begging for approval. "Good boy." He smiled at her, and she smiled back, pleased at the faint tinge of pink on his teeth. "*Very* good boy." She petted him and he arched up into it, purring loudly.  
  
"Ginny, are you going to apologise to Harry now?" Ron asked impatiently, helping Hermoine restore some order to the shocked and bleeding Harry. Ginny surveyed them coolly; personally, she thought Harry looked better with bleeding scratches down his face.  
  
"Why? Azrael is a good kitty, aren't you, my demon?" Ginny returned to patting the ecstatic Azrael. "He loves a fight, and for some odd reason, loathes Harry. I think it was funny."  
  
"Virginia Weasley, apologise now," Ron said firmly.  
  
"How about, uh, *hell* no? I can state it more vehemently if you want." She smiled nastily and then got to her feet. "Well, I'm once more the resident freak show. Azrael, come." She turned her back on her brother and his friends, to be confronted by a room of silent, judging Gryffindors. "Who will throw the first stone? Who among you be without sin? I do confess that I am a witch, a bride of Satan, and that he has given unto me a demon by the name of Azrael, who manifests in the form of a pure black cat with golden eyes. What, never seen the Crucible? Let me pass." They parted for her, and she left for her room, head held high and Azrael slinking along at her heels. 


	6. Shocking behaviour

Ginny unpacked quietly, Azrael sitting on her bed watching her. She hung up her robes, put her books on the shelf and put her family photos on her bureau. General settling in stuff. Her new room wasn't that different to her old one, maybe a bit larger. Gary red and gold glaring from every surface and chattering girls filling up every corner. Annoying, that's what it was. Ginny clicked her tongue at Azrael as she finished and he dropped off the bed fluidly to follow her as she descended into the crowded Common Room where everyone was catching up on what had gone on in the hols. She knew they whispered as she walked past, brown eyes underlined with black, face almost death white, black covering pink lips, hair teased and spiked and scruffed around her face. She sank down gracefully into a spare armchair and curled up into it, Azrael jumping up to lay his head by hers, chunky black boots exposed by her robes as he made a place for himself. He hissed at another cat, and she tousled his ears. "Calm, my demon. Be nice."  
  
He mewed complainingly at her. He liked to be known as the strong one once he'd recovered. He'd filled out, developed a cocky self-assured arrogance as his coat began to shine. Beaten all the neighbourhood cats to an inch of their nine lives, he was the one in control and they had better not forget it. Ginny smiled slightly as Azrael purred and relaxed under her soothing hand. He was marvellous in concentrating her magic as well. Quite the helpful little kitten.  
  
"Azrael, be a dear and get my cross, would you? I forgot it." He opened an eye at her request, sniffed and then jumped off to do it. She watched him thread through the students legs, hoping none of them did anything to provoke him. Azrael soon came back, head held high and silver cross clenched between his teeth. He clambered back up onto her lap and placed the cross delicately into her hand. "Thank you, Azrael." She placed the cross around her neck, fumbling slightly with the clasp and then Azrael noticed Harry. He laid his eyes flat against his skull and puffed up, mouth emitting warning hisses as Ron and Harry passed in front of them.  
  
"Hey Ginny." Harry nodded at her as if nothing had happened. Ginny came to a decision and let go of Azrael, who immediately threw himself in a whirlwind of hissing, spitting, clawing fury, voicing yowls of anticipated triumph. "OW!" Ginny watched him calmly as Azrael swarmed over him, never staying still long enough to be caught as Ron and Hermoine tried to help Harry.  
  
"Azrael, enough." Ginny finally called him off and Azrael flowed to the ground, carrying a scrap of Harry's robes proudly in his mouth. He gently deposited it in her hand, golden eyes begging for approval. "Good boy." He smiled at her, and she smiled back, pleased at the faint tinge of pink on his teeth. "*Very* good boy." She petted him and he arched up into it, purring loudly.  
  
"Ginny, are you going to apologise to Harry now?" Ron asked impatiently, helping Hermoine restore some order to the shocked and bleeding Harry. Ginny surveyed them coolly; personally, she thought Harry looked better with bleeding scratches down his face.  
  
"Why? Azrael is a good kitty, aren't you, my demon?" Ginny returned to patting the ecstatic Azrael. "He loves a fight, and for some odd reason, loathes Harry. I think it was funny."  
  
"Virginia Weasley, apologise now," Ron said firmly.  
  
"How about, uh, *hell* no? I can state it more vehemently if you want." She smiled nastily and then got to her feet. "Well, I'm once more the resident freak show. Azrael, come." She turned her back on her brother and his friends, to be confronted by a room of silent, judging Gryffindors. "Who will throw the first stone? Who among you be without sin? I do confess that I am a witch, a bride of Satan, and that he has given unto me a demon by the name of Azrael, who manifests in the form of a pure black cat with golden eyes. What, never seen the Crucible? Let me pass." They parted for her, and she left for her room, head held high and Azrael slinking along at her heels. 


	7. Encounter with a wolf

"Stop *staring* at me!" Ginny finally yelled into the Common Room a few days later. "Why don't you all just sod off and mind your own damn business? Yes, friends with Slytherins. Get *over* it and grow up! Known but not proven Lucius Malfoy slipped me Tom's diary in the first place. We're not even really friends, we just have a mutual respect." She packed up her study materials and stormed off to the Library in a huff. "Dammit, no wonder I'm becoming paranoid." A hand on her shoulder and she jumped into the air with a startled scream. Snickers, and she turned around and slapped Mordred's hand. He just raised an eyebrow at her, pale blue eyes dancing with amused malice.  
  
"Jumpy today."  
  
"Everyone keeps staring, and whispering! Like all of a sudden I'm going to throw an Exorcist and have my head spin around one-eighty and spew green ectoplasm. Azrael, stop growling. We *like* the Slytherins. They don't treat us like freaks." Azrael settled down and started to wash himself crossly, bloodlust denied for the moment. Ginny spared him a fond glance, before looking at Mordred again.  
  
"Join the club." Mordred gestured down at himself. "Me and Vort draw stares wherever we go. I dress grunge punk muggle goth. Ripped and dusty, hair shaggy and wild, my eyebrow's pierced, I have five silver studs in one ear and three in the other, scuffed black Docs on my feet. He dresses like an eighteenth century wizard of the noble classes, refined and elegant, hair drawn back neatly and tied with a black silk ribbon. We are the contrast personified."  
  
"And you two pull it off so well. Why does Draco call you wolf?" Ginny asked him something that had been puzzling her.  
  
Mordred pulled a black leather thong out of the neck of his robes. Dangling from it were several curved dagger-like teeth. "I hunt them. One tooth for every one I've killed. Not by magic either. It's just me, the wolf, a spear and the forest." He traced the edge of one tooth with the ball of his thumb. "And the fact that he thinks I look like one."  
  
"Makes sense. There is a definite wolf look about you." Mordred shook himself out of his reverie at her voice, and looked at her, fingers still idly caressing the fangs.  
  
"You look like a kitten on the outside, kinda like the one that follows you around like your bleeding shadow." Azrael hissed at Mordred's flippant tone. "But like him, you are not one to be crossed lightly. I can't wait to see you blow up in the Gryffindors faces."  
  
"May not be that long before I do, the way they keep acting."  
  
"Make sure you do it in a public place, swear a blue streak and let Azrael loose on Harry again. That would be bloody wonderful."  
  
"Will do." Ginny waved at him and set off for the Library again, Azrael complaining behind her. She heard Mordred laugh again and his footsteps head away from her. 


	8. Letting loose

Ginny listened to Ron and Hermoine nag at her, becoming increasingly frustrated and angry. A month, and they still hadn't got over the fact that Slytherins talked to her and she voluntarily talked back. With enjoyment, no less. She drummed her fingers impatiently against the wood grain of the table, Azrael snarling beside her, until Harry decided to join in. That was really *enough*! She stood up and most eyes swung her way as she disturbed the calm and noisy chatter of after dinner. "You have *no right*, Potter, to even open your mouth and talk to me. Ron is my brother, so him I can deal with. Hermoine's Head Girl, so yeah, I can cope with her too. But don't you *dare* judge me.  
  
"So you save my fucking life. I think five years of being kicked in the head, metaphorically speaking, compensates. You are *the* most self- centered arrogant sodding prick I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. My life is exactly that, *my* life, so the lot of you can just shut the fuck up and bloody deal. After five fucking years of being ignored, sent away, rejected and patronised, you three have no bloody right in deciding who I talk to. If you'd wanted one, you'd have made sure you treated me as a person, not an object. At least they take me seriously. Yeah, they're Slytherins. So? I don't see how it's any of your sodding business." Her voice dropped from a near scream to a venomous hiss as the Slytherin table erupted into applause. "Do I make myself clear?" The Gryffindors she addressed were staring at her in shocked horror. Ginny waited for their brains to catch up with their ears.  
  
"Milady, allow me to escort thee from such rabble that have provoked thee sorely." Vortigern materialized at her side, and Ginny flashed him a grateful smile, still shaking from the after effects of her tirade. Azrael mewed pleadingly, golden eyes fixed on Harry. Ginny petted his head.  
  
"Go for it, Azrael. Not much blood mind, just rip his robes a little." Harry gaped at her for an instant as Azrael yowled in delight, before Azrael was on him, making Harry yelp to his evil little heart's content. "Thank you, Vortigern." Mordred, Draco and Blaise soon appeared at her side as well.  
  
"Couldn't let our mascot get hurt, can we now?" Mordred said loudly and Ginny sniggered at the look on the Gryffindors faces.  
  
"Azrael, stop now," Ginny said and Azrael leapt off Harry's shoulder, onto the table sending dishes flying and then onto the floor, loping after her as she left the Great Hall, escorted by the four male Slytherins. "So, I'm a pet, a curiosity."  
  
"No, we're adopting you," Blaise corrected. "Did you see Potter's face?"  
  
"It looks so much better with scratches down it, doesn't it?" Ginny giggled.  
  
"All too true." Draco smiled lazily. "I think you scare them now."  
  
"Well, you did it," Mordred purred. "The Gryffindors will *never* recover. And telling the entire school exactly why you were so pissed was absolute genius. Now, let them try and keep their pure and saintly image. Azrael, you deserve a metal."  
  
"Azrael was the true hero of the hour," Ginny said proudly as she picked the ecstatic cat up.  
  
"Thy familiar proves his worth. Truly, there's a stout heart in that small frame. A true warrior, in every sense of the word." Azrael purred as Vortigern complimented him.  
  
"So, once more I ask, what the hell are we doing?" Ginny stopped in the middle of the hallway and rested her chin on Azrael's head. They halted, her in the middle of the group and looked at her curiously.  
  
"Torture." Blaise smiled.  
  
"Amusement." Draco ran a hand through his ice blond hair.  
  
"Flirtation, coy looks and secrets." Vortigern laughed and sketched her an elegant bow.  
  
"To sum it all up, we're just being bloody bastards. We set the school up to take a fall. You play along. And we all have fun along the way." Mordred ran a quick hand through her hair. She jerked her head away and snarled at him, Azrael a bare beat behind at his audacity. "Scary little kitten."  
  
"I'm a devil kitten." Ginny smirked and walked on, brushing past Vortigern. "So there with the grr and the evil."  
  
"Oh, most assuredly, sweet lady." Vortigern chuckled as the Slytherins slipped away in the direction of the Dungeons. 


	9. An old enemy up to his old, old tricks w...

Ginny was crying and running for the Quidditch pitch. Crying in furious rage, not any other softer emotion. Damn it, couldn't they just stay the hell out of her life? She reached the pitch finally, lips pulled back from her teeth in a frozen grimace of fury. Azrael had long been left behind in the school halls as she ran. She stripped off her school robes and pulled her jeans and boots on before taking to the skies. She shot upwards in a vertical climb, hair laid flat against her skull and then she opened her mouth to scream.  
  
A banshee shriek spilled from her open lips, echoing through the heavens. What she wanted to do was rip somebody to pieces, preferably bloody Potter. She took a deep breath, and then screamed again, possibly louder then before.  
  
"Dammit, you bloody chit, are you trying to deafen me or what?" Mordred's snarl broke into her concentration and she turned her head to look at him. He was dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch robes. "What the hell are you doing?"  
  
"Screaming, so I don't kill the Boy-Who-Lived with my bare hands." She let off a string of curses that made even Mordred flinch. "I don't plan on going to Azkaban, thank you."  
  
"What the hell kind of fool stunt are you trying to pull, Ginny?" Draco snapped as he swooped in. "We are trying to practice here."  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry, you damn ferret." Ginny laughed maniacally as his face whitened with rage. He snarled wordlessly and dived for her. Ginny dodged him easily before standing up on her broom unsteadily. "You don't see. They most assuredly do not see either. How can you not see it? The darkness coming will swallow us all." Her eyes rolled up in her skull. "Oh god. No."  
  
"What the hell?" Mordred whispered, and then she fell. He gaped for a second and then sent his broom after her plummeting body in a headlong dive. A fall from this height would kill her, and she didn't seem to have noticed that she fell. He caught her and they both tumbled off his broom with an audible thud. He lay still for a moment to collect his thoughts, with her splayed out on top of him. He sat up, one arm wrapped around her waist. "Christ, she's out for the bloody count," Mordred hissed through his teeth as the other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team came in for a landing. "C'mon Red, wake up now."  
  
"What in god's name was that?" Vortigern asked as he kneeled beside his twin. Mordred flashed him a dark look.  
  
"How the fuck should I know?" Ginny was limp against him and she looked quite the sexy little pixy in her form hugging muggle clothes. Mordred shifted uncomfortably. Ginny woke up with a gasp, and then looked directly at Draco.  
  
"I saw it."  
  
"Saw what?"  
  
"Your death. But Tom is not winning that easily, oh hell no. I won't let him do it again."  
  
"Get out," Draco hissed at the other members of the Quidditch team. The three who weren't part of the group left quickly, murmuring among themselves. Blaise, Vortigern and Mordred stayed.  
  
"Your father is going to let Tom eat you. He's too weak at the moment, and apparently you fit the bill." Ginny's voice rasped through her strained vocal chords. "You'll stick in his throat though, dragon." Her eyes squeezed shut. "Get out of my head, Tom." She rose to her feet and stumbled away from the shocked guys. "You get the fuck outta my mind." Her eyes flicked open, and they were a deep, burning red. "Get out. You think you can out bitch me? You have so another think coming." She dropped to her knees, holding her bowed head between her hands as if she could force him out by her vice-like grip.  
  
"You won't have changed much in the five years." A hissing, deeper voice emanated from her mouth. "And it wasn't Draco's death you saw. It was your own, silly Ginny."  
  
She panted harshly, and raised her head to look at them. "Run." A simple command, a word that took all her strength from her to get out. They didn't run. Her mind whirled with confusion as Voldemort shrieked with laughter. Why? She told them to run. They stood there, grim looks on their faces.  
  
"Ginny! What are you doing to her?" Ginny swung her head slowly to look at Ron. Finally, the concern she'd craved. Too late.  
  
"Nothing. Ginny, you fight that bastard. You can beat him," Mordred said harshly, eyes fixed on hers.  
  
"Mordred Pendyrwyrdd, you will shut your mouth," Voldemort hissed through Ginny's teeth as she stood up, exuding serpentine menace.  
  
"Oh, will I now? You never scared me, you thrice buggering bastard. You get the fuck outta her head, arsehole."  
  
"You don't command the master, boy." Mordred flinched as Ginny laughed.  
  
"I told you to run. Why haven't you run? Ginny asked them pleadingly. "Stay out of this, Ron. It has nothing to do with the Light. Unh!" Ginny went to her knees, arms wrapped around her stomach. "This is dark. Dark as midnight." Azrael leapt to her side finally, hissing angrily. She looked through them, a trickle of blood running from her nose. "Oh, Tom is so pissed. You have no idea." And then Harry stepped up next to Ron. Noble fool. Well, you know, obviously Voldemort so come running to die, Harry. Shit, but he was stupid.  
  
"Ah, Potter. We meet again." Ginny laughed maniacally. "You've grown up to be quite the looker, haven't you? I would assume you have a lot of ladies on your string, all wanting a share in the famous Harry Potter. But you lost sweet little Virginia. Or maybe you have a thing for members of your own sex, hmm? Maybe you prefer to be fu-"  
  
"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up, you dirty minded pervert. Although, it is true Potter has a nice arse. It's all that Quidditch, does wonders for a boy's arse. Not that you can always tell through the robes." The two shared a laugh. "But Draco has a better one."  
  
"What is going on here?" Snape asked angrily as he arrived at the Quidditch pitch. Ginny's eyes tracked over to him.  
  
"Oh no, you are not-"  
  
"Hello, Severus," Voldemort purred. "Long time no see."  
  
"God, I so do not want to talk to my teacher in that kind of voice. And ew. That is not an image I need. Anyone else go to a scary mental place? What you are, Tom, is a dirty little slut."  
  
"Ah, but I'm here in your head, Virginia. And I'm never on the receiving end. You lose too much power that way, and besides, it's just so much more pleasant to dominate."  
  
"Get the hell out. That's just gross." Snape gaped as he listened to their argument. "I don't want you here, Tom." Ginny was locked in her own personal battle with a demon, and didn't have time or energy to cope with whoever else might be suffering. This could mean the end of her very soul. He would devour all of her, as he had tried to do in the Chamber. But this time, there was no hero with a magic sword. She'd grown up, and the hero couldn't save the damsel in distress. Sooner or later, fairytales lost their power.  
  
"You invited me in, Ginny. And I don't intend to leave." Ginny's hand whipped out with her wand pointing steadily at Harry. "What a sad ending for the Boy-Who-Lived. Dying at the hand of the lonesome girl he rejected so many times, that she finally walked off the blade of the knife and took him down with her."  
  
"Why don't you just run?" Ginny wailed. "Get the hell out of here, you little idiot with a scar. This is so dark, you'll drown."  
  
"Run, Potter." Draco stepped forward, sneer on his pale lips as he looked at the shaken Harry. "She's ours now. You drove her out, and she fell into our arms. We understand her better then you ever could, the self-righteous white knight that you are. Couldn't see the fire under the mask. Your loss, our gain. You lost her when you rejected her that very last time and broke her heart past mending. So she came to us, or rather, we sought her out."  
  
"I can see it here in her pretty little head, Potter. Every wistful schoolgirl sigh. Every heartbreaking rejection and dismissal. All here in living, vibrant colour."  
  
"Get out." Ginny gritted her teeth.  
  
"You aren't strong enough to make me."  
  
"Oh, aren't I?" Ginny threw her head back and screamed, throwing herself to the ground in a thrash of limbs and sending her wand skidding across the ground. "Now, I despise Potter, but he isn't going to die today. Not by my hand. He isn't worth it." She arched her back and screamed again, the sound of a soul in torment bringing to mind Dante's vision of hell and the sinners imprisoned therein. Those around her flinched at the sound of her agony.  
  
Harry watched, feeling useless. What should he do? He was meant to save her, as he had before. But he didn't know what to do.  
  
Snape watched grimly, arms folded across his chest. So, Voldemort had found another plaything. She seemed to be giving him a run for his money, at the very least. And to bring up his Deatheater past in front of his students. . .he would have some harsh threatening to do. His position could not be compromised.  
  
Ron watched, heart breaking as his sister thrashed and screamed. He couldn't help her. Again. He died a bit more inside, as he had when Harry had gone on alone to face the Basilisk. He was meant to protect her, dammit! That's what elder brothers were for.  
  
The twins watched, expressions of grim rage on their faces. Mordred was snarling, and Vortigern's face showed more emotion then it had for the past year. The cool forbidding wrath of an archangel matched with the wild fury of the wolf.  
  
Draco watched, lips thinned. She was theirs, not Voldemort's. She was under their protection. He knew his Lord; he would get tired of the game soon, as Ginny kept fighting. He liked a bit of struggle, and then easy surrender. This was not to his liking, this intense fevered battle.  
  
Blaise watched, eyes lighting up with unearthly fervour. She was becoming the flame, letting it eat away at her, purifying her and making her stronger, like tempered steel. He could see her weaknesses dropping away as she writhed, each moment that passed making her stronger. This was what he had foreseen; this was what his line had waited for. The Flame that Burnt all to Ashes. The Phoenix that would turn the world on its head, burning out the impurities. Chaos. How beautiful she was in her agony.  
  
"Be angry," Blaise purred as he knelt beside her, one hand sweeping bloody strands of hair out of her face. She was sweating blood; great ruby droplets that seeped to the surface, then rolled slowly down her face. The cat wailed beside her and he spared it a caress. "Better yet, laugh at him. He hates that." The Slytherins stood guard over Ginny, facing off even teachers as Blaise whispered words of comfort to her. In her pain, Ginny latched onto them with frenzied hope as she thrashed and shrieked. Then she was still, panting slightly.  
  
"Christ almighty." Ginny sat up, the blood turning her face into a red mask, slightly dried blood crackling around her mouth as she spoke. It dripped down her chin from her mouth, and over her lips from her nostrils. The blood sweat seemed to halt, but the slow oozing from the corners of her mouth and her nose continued.  
  
"Oh, but I'm still here, Ginny," Voldemort mocked.  
  
"I thought I told you to get the hell out?" Ginny said tiredly.  
  
"I command, I do not obey the orders of children. And these boys will not be easily forgiven their treachery. There will be blood and pain as they whimper pleadingly for me to show mercy. But they will not receive it." The Slytherins shared a glance, ignoring their House Master. This was it. They could not go home again.  
  
"We happen to like Ginny. She's gone all goth punk bitch. Very interesting," Blaise snapped. "She's becoming a flame that burns you, she abuses Potter and her cat has tried to kill him on more then one occasion."  
  
"Thou hast stepped onto a dangerous path, my liege. Virginia is more then thou thinks her to be."  
  
"Mordred." Ginny lurched to her feet. "You havta hit me. Knock me out."  
  
"What?" Mordred gaped at her.  
  
"I said, hit me, you miserable ass pansy!" Ginny knew she had to make him mad enough to hit her before Voldemort grabbed her mouth again. "Hit me! Or don't you have the stones?" That did it. With one punch, he sent her flying. She picked herself up again, swaying more pronounced but eyes still snapping with fury. "Is that the best you can do? I said knock me out, not give me a sodding love tap, nancy!"  
  
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Mordred howled as he dove at her. "You bleeding little bitch!" Ginny reflected hazily on the truth of that statement. She was bleeding, and the blood loss was making her dizzy.  
  
"Useless cringing fucking catamite," Ginny whispered into his ear as he pinned her to the ground. He snarled and raised his fist to do as she had taunted him to do. Her eyes flashed red at him, and he hesitated.  
  
"Don't you dare, you miserable child," Voldemort hissed. That clinched it. Ginny's head rocked back, snapping her jaw closed. And she fell into the blessed quiet. 


	10. Stolen away

Ginny woke up in the infirmary and cautiously felt around in her mind. She couldn't feel him in there, but she hadn't before either. A polite cough to her left and she turned her head over slowly, a headache pounding through her skull. Dumbledore was sitting there, looking very worried. Azrael clambered up onto her bed, mewing anxiously as he cuddled up to her neck. She stroked his head tiredly, eyes on Dumbledore. "Well, I think what we all wanna know is how and why Voldie decided to come and play."  
  
"That is secondary to your well being."  
  
"I've had an evil guy in my head, rummaging around. And I think Voldemort is more then slightly gay. It was highly disturbing." She closed her eyes again, concentrating on the soothing purrs throbbing against her skin. Think about that, not what nearly happened.  
  
"Is she alright, professor Dumbledore?" She heard Ron say in a worried whisper.  
  
"Well enough to tell you to go away. You didn't run, and then you didn't make Potter run. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to let Voldemort kill him? Please, I don't want to hear it. Just leave," Ginny said with bitter weariness.  
  
"I think your sister has made her wishes clear, Mr. Weasley, though I do wish you would reconsider." Dumbledore's tone was slightly disapproving.  
  
Ginny laughed harshly. "Oh there is very little I have to say to him, except for leave me the hell alone and don't pretend now that you care."  
  
"But I do, Ginny." Ron sounded near to tears.  
  
"You don't. Now, please leave me alone." Ginny settled to ignoring him.  
  
"Isn't it lovely how she's hurting, Albus?" Voldemort hissed.  
  
"Ron, leave now." Ginny opened her eyes and forced Voldemort down so she could concentrate. "Get Draco, Mordred, Vortigern and Blaise. Go now, please." She felt resigned, this was what her life had become and she needed to fight it. Ron was watching her in horror. "Please, Ron. There are things Tom will do and say that will hurt you. I don't want that. Go."  
  
"Ah, yes. Her little band of defenders. Go and get them, boy." Azrael twitched nervously. Ron left running after a nod from Dumbledore.  
  
"Azrael, go to Hermoine. Stay away until this is over," Ginny ordered her cat. He left. "Professor, please. I think we need Snape for this."  
  
"Severus. I haven't spoken with him nearly enough lately, or caused him enough pain."  
  
"Tom, stop it."  
  
"You *are* a silly girl if you think I'll stop now."  
  
"This is a battle that I intend to win. Now, I've asked you all nice like. Be polite and leave, you've overstayed your welcome."  
  
"I was never polite."  
  
"On the contrary, Mr Riddle, I always found you to be unfailingly polite." Dumbledore leant forward slightly, the mild manner in which he delivered his words not hinting at the anger Ginny could see in his eyes.  
  
"That was a mask, you old fool," Voldemort hissed at Dumbledore. "I was hiding then, conserving my strength."  
  
"You were doing it then, and you're doing it now. You're hiding out in my mind like the coward you are."  
  
"I most certainly am not. I'm using you to hurt those around you, and displaying my strength." Ginny pushed him away and under.  
  
"You know what I feel like? I feel like the girl in the Exorcist. Maybe you should get a priest." Ginny laughed softly. Dumbledore was impressed by her strength of mind, she could still laugh. "If my head spins one eighty, we'll know we're in trouble."  
  
"Indeed." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly.  
  
"You know what's really annoying about this? They'll just think my whole re- invention thing this year was Voldemort's fault. Any idea how annoying that is?"  
  
"I can see how it would be quite vexing." Ginny was just glad that the anger she saw in Dumbledore's eyes wasn't directed at her. The Slytherins stepped trough the door, Snape looming behind them.  
  
"You called, prof?" Mordred grinned before going to Ginny's side. "Hope your jaw's feeling alright."  
  
"It was either you punch me out, or let Voldemort kill someone. What's a little pain to a extremely noble and stupid Gryffindor?"  
  
"You tell me, I'm just a sneaky Slytherin. We prefer to save our own skins, Flame." The two shared a grin.  
  
"You weak, spineless traitors, I'll see you all die slowly, begging at my feet and crawling like serpents on your bellies."  
  
"Shut up, Tom. You're not part of this discussion." To her amazement, she felt like something clicked inside her head. A howl burst from her lips as Voldemort tried to speak, but failed. "Ah, gotcha on the run now." Ginny smiled evilly. "When you punched me, it hurt him too." She put her hand in Mordred's. "Break my wrist."  
  
"No fucking way!" Mordred yelped, dropping her hand like it was red hot.  
  
"Believe me when I say it can't be worse then the utter violation I'm going through at the moment. This is worse then the Chamber."  
  
"There may be a potion I can brew to help you eject him," Snape interjected. "Granted, he is not quite the text book version of an evil spirit, but it should work. Zabini, Vortigern Pendyrwyrdd, follow me please." Snape swept out, the two following him. Ginny levered herself up onto her elbows.  
  
"I've got him shut up in a corner now. It's hard to keep him there. He's quite, quite pissed. He can't get out, he's trapped in my head while his body lies elsewhere. If I can keep him here long enough, he'll die." Ginny started to laugh in triumph, her eyes shining in a type of madness. "And you can die in my head, you *bastard*. I'm going to make you *hurt*."  
  
"Very Slytherin of you, Ginny," Draco chuckled.  
  
Ginny grinned at him. "Oh, hell yeah." She could feel Voldemort raging inside her mind, striking hard blows against the cage she had constructed for him. She contracted the walls, and he screamed. "Oh, he screams so nicely." She had nearly forgotten Dumbledore's existence until he politely cleared his throat.  
  
"Miss Weasley, do you mean to inform me that you have the mind of Lord Voldemort trapped by yours?"  
  
"Oh, I don't have his mind. I have his soul." Her body jolted on the bed as if struck by an invisible hand. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. "Ow," she said dryly. Draco and Mordred chuckled. "But it hurt him too, so, bonus!"  
  
Vortigern raced up to the door and leant on it, panting from his run from the Dungeons. "Professor Snape begs thine indulgence, but the potion will take at least two days to devise. He pays pardon."  
  
"By that time, Tom will be dead." Ginny's eyes rolled up in her head, showing white all the way around. She devised a series of symbols to help her focus. It seemed to her that she stood on a featureless plain and Tom was trapped inside a large metal cage as he had appeared in the Chamber of Secrets, five years ago. She studied him dispassionately, while still listening peripherally to the room. "Hello, Tom."  
  
"Ginny Weasley. You think you've got me trapped here? You do not know what you are dealing with." He brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and glowered balefully at her.  
  
"I made you take a weaker form. This is my mind after all, Tom."  
  
"Perhaps. Or perhaps I have you fooled." Tom threw his head back and laughed. Ginny watched him and then thoughtfully put more bars on the cage. "I'm a wizard, Ginny. A very talented one." He raised his wand and she scrambled desperately to halt whatever he was going to do.  
  
On the bed, Ginny screamed, arched her back and disappeared.  
  
"What the fuck?!" Mordred leapt to his feet from his seat at her side and ran his hand over the bed. Nothing. There was nothing there.  
  
"It seems Lord Voldemort has more then one trick up his sleeve." Dumbledore sounded infinitely weary.  
  
"So, what are we going to do?" Draco whispered, his eyes glued to the empty bed.  
  
"There is nothing we can do," Dumbledore said with finality. "We can't know where she's gone, or what spell Voldemort used to take her wherever she went. Perhaps we can track her, but unless she contacts us." A silence fell over the room, and then Mordred threw back his head and howled. Vortigern came forward to wrap his arms around his twin as Mordred keened like a wolf in the winter. At least he had an outlet for his pain. Draco looked like he was cast in stone, he was so still and his face frozen. Vortigern just let his twin shout their anguish to the skies. 


	11. Reluctant hero with black nailpolish, bl...

Ginny suffered through what seemed like an eternity of burning pain, accompanied by extreme vertigo. She screamed endlessly, trapped and then was spat out. She hit the ground hard, nerve endings tingling and raw so that even the slightest whisper of cloth against her body caused blinding pain as she raised a small cloud of dust. She moaned in pain as she tried to move and she managed to get to her hands and knees before she collapsed again. Dazedly, she registered that blood was pooling under her hands. Her blood? It must be. Blood running in little trickles of life. She turned her head so her cheek was flat against the stone to watch the blood nudge its way across the floor. It was barely light in here, candlelight flickering to cast gleams of radiance across the red on the ground. Cold. It was very cold. She sighed, breath slipping out from bruised lips. What a miserable end, bleeding her life away somewhere cold and dark. She relaxed into the cold, feeling her heart slow down and the raging fire of her agony cool to a smouldering flame. Ginny waited to die.  
  
The scrape of stone against stone caught her attention. Could she hide? Scratch that, could she even move? The answer to both questions was a resounding no. Footsteps over the ground and Ginny tried to force herself up onto her elbows, legs dragging uselessly. She whimpered in pain, and slumped back down into the nearly black pool of her own blood. She could feel the ache across her back start up again, ribbons of pain lancing across her back from her neck to her ankles. The footsteps paused, and then sped up, coming to a halt at her side.  
  
"So, what have we here then?" A rough male voice spoke. She moaned; mind lost in the pain. "Bloody hell, you're bleeding all over the place. And here's me thinking it was just some dog or summat like that that had crawled in here to die. You're a mess, pet." She sensed him kneel beside her. A pale white finger tipped with black nail polish swept through the blood, like a child stealing icing from a cake. "Your back's been whipped through your clothes, and they're in pieces. So's your back. Someone really did a number on you." A hand touched her shoulder and she shrieked in startled pain. Her agonized vocalisation was answered by a hoarse yell. "Sorry, pet. Forgot about the no causing pain to the living and human. You'll havta stay here while I. . .damn it, I can't do that either. A vamp would get you for sure." The sound of a lighter, and then Ginny smelt cigarette smoke as the man exhaled. "You'll havta get up."  
  
Ginny clenched her teeth together and determinedly surged upwards. The voice offered murmured encouragement. On her feet, chin nearly touching her chest, she looked over at the owner of the voice. All she got was an impression of white blond hair and brilliant blue eyes before she collapsed into unconsciousness.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Bloody hell, Slayer, I had to dust about twenty vamps on the way over! Let me in and take this chit off my hands." She was lying on wood and she hurt more then she had before. All she could see was weathered white wooden slats and big black combat boots. Her rescuer? Although, he didn't sound too happy about the rescuing. "C'mon, she's bleeding to death out here! Her back's in shreds and her face is going to be some lovely colours come morning." The sound of a door opening. "Finally!"  
  
"What do you want, Spike?" A very unfriendly female voice asked. American accent? That brought new panic to Ginny. Where was she? And who where these people? Ginny gasped for breath, then started to cough, bringing up blood. More blood. Wonderful. She felt wryly amused at her thoughts, and then rolled over. That brought a scream into her throat as her back hit the ground and she heard a gasp. Well, now do you believe him? "Oh my god!"  
  
"Help, please?" Ginny asked weakly in a scratchy voice. Her throat ached from all the screaming she'd been doing. This blonde girl was bending over her and Ginny moaned in pain as the twit touched her shoulder. "Idiot," Ginny rasped. She heard a chuckle, and strained her eyes to look past Goldilocks and saw black leather coat hem, black boots and blond hair. At least he had some clue. "Get her away from me before she causes more damage. You look like you have some idea. She doesn't."  
  
"Well!" The girl huffed.  
  
"Shut up. Kinda bleeding to death here, and I don't plan on dying yet. Hospital?"  
  
"Don't know if we want to take you to hospital with those kinds of wounds. Stuff like that usually brings the coppers around."  
  
"I'll havta do it then." Ginny moved her hands slowly and painfully, getting her wand out of her robes. "Remedis." A flare of white light spun through her and she arched her back in pain as skin knotted itself together. "Ow. Remind me to get a proper Mediwitch to do it next time." Ginny made it onto her knees, and then the guy offered her a hand. She took it and leaned against him gratefully. "Thanks."  
  
"I'm going to call Giles." Blondie nodded her head and made her way into the house.  
  
"So, what happened to you?" He seemed interested, so Ginny decided to tell him as he helped her into the house. Blondie was obviously too wrapped up in herself to care.  
  
"Evil guy in my head tried to make me kill people. Old history that, he'd done it before. And then I passed out getting him to leave. Woke up, he tried it again, I forced him into a cage, he retaliated by sending me here. Must have reckoned I'd die before I got help. Bastard. I am so hunting him down and killing him slowly. Much blood. Maybe I should start with a whipping to match mine?" Ginny mused absently. The guy laughed. "My name's Ginny Weasley. What's yours?" An older woman bustled into the room and pressed a hot cup of hot chocolate into her hands. Ginny took it thankfully and sipped from the hot sugary liquid, filling it trickle down into her numbed body. "Thanks." Ginny buried her face in the mug, drinking greedily. She was dehydrated from blood loss, and the sugar would help the shock.  
  
"Spike."  
  
"What kind of a name is Spike?" She asked him curiously.  
  
"A descriptive one." He was looking at her with a sly look in his eyes.  
  
"Ok, not going there," Ginny said firmly. "So, where the hell am I?"  
  
"Place called Sunnydale, California. Seeing as how you've magic and all, you'd know about the Hellmouth, or heard of it at least."  
  
Ginny looked at him in shock, nearly letting go of the mug. He caught it before it hit the floor. "But it can't be. The last Hellmouth was closed in the year 1836, when a witch by the name of Anne Thatcher sacrificed herself and destroyed the Order of Aurelius, a vampire clan. It was in Paris. This can't be a Hellmouth, they would teach it at school, all they teach is the theory now, and even that's a small, neglected field. Defence against the Dark Arts is one of my favourite subjects, and I would know! As it goes in the account, god, what did it say? 'On the night of the 12th of May, year of our lord 1836, the Hellmouth of Paris was closed. With the blood of a witch with a noble spirit and pure heart and the dust of the Order of Aurelius, it was clogged shut. She came upon the blood drinkers and though confronted and taxed sorely by one vampire of the name of Angelus, she prevailed and by her magic slammed shut the Mouth of Hell. As it is written, may her sacrifice never be forgot. All members of the Clan died that night, and by their final deaths helped close the Mouth that they had kept open before,'" Ginny recited, eyes half closed. "Three vampires, those that were called the Scourge of Europe due to their nefarious deeds, Darla, a Childe of the Master, Angelus, the Childe of Darla and Drusilla, one of the two Childer of Angelus were the last to fall. Drusilla hast been recorded as warning the Master of the catastrophe that was to befall the Order, but the Master mocked her. The insane vampire Seer then prevailed upon her Sire, but driven by his own Sire Darla, he punished her for her true foretelling. Such was the end of the Order of Aurelius. May pride be the downfall of all our foes.' The Council of Wizardry, records of the eighteenth century. Or something like that."  
  
"Well, that's interesting," Spike said slowly. "Because that's not what happened here. A witch did try to destroy the Order, but she died. And the Hellmouth has always been here."  
  
Ginny felt sick to her stomach. "So, not only am I in America, far from home but I'm in an alternate dimension. Tom really wanted to fuck up any chance I had of getting home." Ginny buried her face in her hands.  
  
"Kind of a prerogative of evil, luv."  
  
"Wanker. He is such a wanker. Well, he'd havta be cos now he's the Evil Lord of Darkness that looks some mutated version of a snake. Icky. Damn bloody Voldemort and his bloody Deatheaters. Painful deaths to them all. Saaayyy. . ." Ginny looked up at Spike. "You don't have any ideas on torture, do you?" He grinned.  
  
"I have plenty."  
  
"Good. You can come home with me, when I find out how, and we can bring bloody, painful slow deaths to the bastard who sent me here. Sound good?"  
  
"Sounds bloody fantastic, luv. One problem though, I can't actually help with the hands on stuff."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Chip in me 'ead zaps me everytime I try and hurt humans."  
  
"I'm not sure if he *is* human." Ginny drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch, before grabbing his head.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Shut up." She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing down on the ridge of scar tissue. "Interesting."  
  
"Bloody hell."  
  
"Shh. Simple spell. One of translocation, combined with one of healing. S'wonder no one's done it for you before this." Ginny let him up.  
  
"Could have something to do with the fact that I'm an evil vampire, luv." He ran his fingers through his hair and grinned at her. "Know how it's different here? I'm the Childe of Angelus, brother of Drusilla, he got a bloody soul and Darla is dust. The Master is dust too, but the Hellmouth is still open."  
  
"Well, seeing as how I don't plan on dying to close the bloody thing, it can stay open. I need to get of here." Ginny bounced to her feet. "Come with? I need a Big Bad vampire to protect me from the Slayer. Cos, obviously evil." Spike snorted back laughter and rose to his feet, offering her his arm gallantly.  
  
"Obviously, pet. And we can talk about this mojo business of yours. See ya, Joyce!" She took his arm and the two set out for the door, him whistling slightly. "Don't want to wait up for the Watcher?"  
  
"Watchers are tweed wearing arseholes who read too many books. Out of touch with the real world. And I need to get out of the house. Pressing darkness."  
  
"Pressing darkness?" He raised an eyebrow at her as he sat her down on the lawn in front of the house. A few patches of her blood still glistened on the grass.  
  
"Oh, so heavy. I'm a tad empathic. And in there.the air's so thick I can't breathe." Ginny lay back on the grass, staring up at the stars moodily. "God, I am so sick of being the plaything. He doesn't even want me as such, he just wants to hurt Harry frigging Potter. I hate heroes. So much." He leant his head on his hand and watched her. "Am I bitching too much?"  
  
"Nah, pet." Her eyes started to close drowsily. "Watcher." Spike nodded at Giles as he came up the drive.  
  
"Spike. What's the problem? Buffy wasn't very coherent."  
  
"Her name's Buffy? And I thought I had it bad." Ginny snickered. "I'm the problem. Little red haired witchy dimensional tripping problem. Not my fault though. I just happened to be on the path to someone else's destruction." She dragged herself up and stared at the shocked man. "So. The name's Ginny Weasley."  
  
"Rupert Giles," he said slowly.  
  
"And Spike we both know.now. He's a good sort, for an evil bloodsucking vampire." Ginny cocked her head to the side and blinked lazily. "He's at least smarter then the blonde indoors. I mean honestly.bitch." She looked back over her shoulder at Spike. "I am so working on getting you bitealicious again. S'not right that someone should do that. Like caging a wolf up." Ginny got to her feet and cracked her knuckles by flexing her fingers against her palm. "I like wolves. And the darkness calls me. So much here.bleeding out of the earth." She closed her eyes and then opened them again. Red. Deep burning fire ember red.  
  
"And you wonder why I could send you here," her lips formed the words, but she wasn't speaking. Not as herself, anyway. "It calls across the dimensions. So much power, just waiting for the one to unlock it."  
  
"And through me, you're not." Ginny stumbled away from the two men, and tripped on her black robes, sending herself sprawling on the ground. "I didn't last time, and I won't now. Not now I know what you can do and who you are."  
  
"What makes you think you have a choice?" Her own voice demanded of her, cold and chilling indifference ringing through the words. She sat up and breathed heavily, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth.  
  
"There is always a choice," she insisted. Her hand came out holding her wand and she threw it to Giles. He caught it; barely. Spike hissed as the girl got to her feet, shaking all over and blood running from her mouth and nose. "Always." Her eyes rolled up, and she flew backwards as if she had been slammed in the stomach. "AHH!" A short sharp scream, soon cut off as she hit the side of the house, cracking her head hard and sliding down to the ground. She left a trail of blood behind her. "Choices, Tom, choices." Spike cheered for her silently as she got to her feet again. He could see the brown fighting to emerge from the red. "I made mine. I'm dark, but I live on the light. You corrupted me, but I stay above that. I crave blood, but I fight the urge to cause pain away. I did it by lusting after Harry all those years but now I'm running with the bad boys. Got me one here too. His name's Spike, but I'm thinking he ain't as dark as those around him think." Ginny's head tilted to the side, and she stared straight at Spike.  
  
"He's a vampire. He can never be any more then his nature made him."  
  
"And here's me thinking not. Here's me thinking you're leaving again, Tom. Glad we had the chance to talk." Her mouth opened in a howl of agony, and she crumpled to her knees. "Had enough of golden boys. Had enough of self- righteousness. Had enough of sweet. And this is where I get off. In the dark. With the blood. With the agony. Because you can't make me break." She slumped to the ground, breath rasping through her throat and into her lungs as he left in a howl of rage and a flicker that reminded her of his robes, dark blazing against dark in a flash. "Spike."  
  
He was at her side in an instant. "Yes, pet?"  
  
"Drink." She bared her throat, brown eyes on his and she could see the shock ripple over his face. His demon leapt to the fore, and she smiled tiredly. "Symbolically." He smiled back at her and lifted her into his arms, started to wash her blood-streaked face with broad sweeps of his tongue. "Blood for blood," she mumbled and he listened to her weary whisperings as her magic-laced blood ripped through him. "He'll be back. Won't leave me here. Has to play, does Tom. Cat with a mouse."  
  
"Oh, I say, Spike." Giles stuttered. Spike ignored the Watcher as he cleaned up the witch. Her blood was so *strong*, so down right scrumptious, darkness paired with innocence. And then she collapsed, with a small sigh. He hefted her up onto his shoulder and headed inside the house.  
  
"Joyce! Antiseptic, bandages, full kit," Spike snapped as he stomped into the house. "Know you have 'em, seeing as what the Slayer gets up to. Where can we lay her flat?" Joyce pointed wordlessly at the table and Spike gently placed Ginny on it, her face blanched white against the fire of her hair and the black of her robes. He put her on her stomach, carefully managing her head so she wouldn't smother, and hissed at the sight of the blood seeping from the whip cuts. He could swear he saw bone in places. Giles had followed him in, and Spike swung to face him, yellow eyes gleaming dangerously. "Help, or go away."  
  
"I'll help. Joyce?" Giles took the medical stuff from Joyce and turned to Spike. "We need to get her robes off and away from the cuts."  
  
"Right." Spike took a hold of the cloth and ripped the few remaining pieces that remained connected. He then bent to her back and started licking. When he heard Giles's gasp, he looked up tiredly. "Vampire spit, coagulant and antibacterial." At Giles's nod of understanding, Spike turned back to his very pleasurable task of cleaning up the witch's back. She tasted like burnt sugar and spices.sweet but not stickily so. And there was that dark thread running through her. He could feeling himself growing hard, and it was taking all his willpower not to moan aloud. She just tasted *so* good.  
  
Ginny woke up muzzily, and could have sworn Azrael was licking her back, purring as he did so. "Azrael." She turned her head and looked into blue eyes. "Spike," she acknowledged happily and drowsily. Her eyes drifted closed again. "S'nice." He chuckled against her back and she stretched languorously, the pain fading under her contented feeling. It was more of a dull ache now, and she could cope with that.  
  
"Spike!" A scream and the sound of something being dropped, and then Spike wasn't there anymore. "Giles, how could you?!" Ginny sat up to see that Slayer girl with a stake over Spike's heart and the older guy standing there, mouth open.  
  
"Accacio wand." Her wand leapt into Ginny's hand at her cool command. "Accacio stake." The stake smacked into her other hand. "Leviosa!" The stake left her hand and speared into the wall beside Buffy's head. "*My* vampire. Do it again, and that will be your head, not the inoffensive wall. That chip is so coming out, you realize?" Spike nodded at her exasperated tone.  
  
"You, huh, what?" Buffy screeched. Ginny pressed her hands to her head in pain.  
  
"Thanks, pet." Spike grinned cockily at Ginny, and she smiled back. "Why am I your vampire?"  
  
"Cos I said so. Good enough?"  
  
"You get the chip outta my head, and I'll be anything you bleeding well want," he said fervently.  
  
"And besides, you're such a bad ass vampire. I have a sneaking suspicion that you could make a lot of pain happen to the one who hurts me." Ginny tucked her legs up under her, quite unselfconscious about her semi-nudity. "Didn't I tell you not to do that, blondie?" Buffy gaped at her, one hand still holding Spike against the wall. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Ginny shrugged fluidly and her wand flicked. "Levoisa!" Buffy flew through the air and out of the room. Ginny let her fall and heard the Slayer drop to the ground. Ginny smiled sweetly at Giles. "Don't cross me. I have the temper that goes with this hair. She got off light." Spike came over to her, wicked lazy grin dancing over his face.  
  
"That was fanfuckingtastic, pet. Do it again?"  
  
"Good lord." Giles cleaned his glasses as Spike reached out and hauled the red haired girl up for a hungry kiss, before scrambling to look after his incensed Slayer. Ginny moaned as fire swept through her veins; nothing had prepared her for this. She was on fire with sensation as his tongue swept through her mouth, teasing, tasting. Teeth nipping on her bottom lip. She just tried to respond, fingers threading through his platinum hair and legs swinging around to hold him close. Eventually through lack of oxygen, she was forced to break it off.  
  
"Wow. Was that thank you?" Ginny was panting slightly, lips bruised and looking very well kissed. "Cos, if it was, I'm going to save your unlife more often." He smirked at her, and then both of their heads swivelled to the doorway as Buffy came storming in. Ginny's hand flew up and as Buffy flinched, she cast a shield spell.  
  
Spike's hands were running up and down her back, lightly touching the whipmarks that were even now healing up under the influence of her magic and his vampiric nature. She hissed and arched her back. "Although this is fun, I'm thinking it's a bit public for my taste."  
  
"Gotta point there. And I need new clothes rather desperately." Ginny ran an eye up and down Buffy's clothes. "But really not liking what she's wearing." Spike smothered laughter as he stepped back and draped his duster about her shoulders. "Quite the gentleman, Spike."  
  
"I just don't want what's mine on public display." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Hey, if I'm yours then you're mine, and as soon as I've got my bite back, I'm making it permanent." Ginny frowned in thought, and leant back on the table.  
  
"I wonder what that would do to Voldemort's spell?" Her eyes lit up with malicious delight. "I think it would fuck him up rather spectacularly." She giggled.  
  
"I like the way your mind thinks, pet."  
  
"Oh, good." And then she fainted.again. She was rather disgusted at herself but the bloodloss and the spellcasting really wasn't helping. 


	12. When in doubt annoy annoy annoy

Ginny had been sitting and watching the Scoobies research for a while now. Although she had clothes now, she had refused to part with Spike's duster until he came back. She leant back on the couch, and tucked her hands behind her head. She was bored. She decided to be annoying, so she started to sing in lazy, husky tones, suitable for the song. "Cake expires from China tries to steal your mind's elation. Little girls from Sweden dream of silver screen flirtation, and if you want these kind of dreams, it's Californication." Her foot started to slowly tap on the armrest. "It's the, edge of the world in all of Western civilization. The sun may rise from the east, but at least it settles in a final location. It's understood that Hollywood sells Californication." She knew they were getting more annoyed as she crooned through the song. "Dream of Californication, dream of Californication."  
  
"Can you stop that? We are trying to work here." If it had been anyone but Buffy, they may have stood a chance. Ginny just shrugged, and switched songs.  
  
"Well, I guess it would be nice. If I could touch your body. I know not everybody got a body like me-ee. But I gotta think twice, before I give my heart away, and I know all the games you play, cos I play them too-oo. Oh, but I need some time off from that emotion. Time to pick my heart up off the floor. And love comes down without devotion, well, it takes a song now baby, but I'm showing you that door. I gotta have FAAIITTH!" Ginny suddenly screamed out, and they all jumped. She took pleasure in that. "Gotta have FAAIITHH! Gotta have faith! Gotta have faith! Baabbyy! I know you're asking me to stay, saying please, please get away cos you're giving me the blues! Baaaaabbby! You might mean all the words you say, can't help but think of yesterday." She sang, devious smile twisting her lips, and then a male voice joined hers. "Before this river becomes an ocean, before you pick my heart up off the floor, love goes down without devotion, well it takes a song now, baby, but I'm showing you that door." And then after a few more lines, she sucked in a breath to scream out, "GET THE FUCK OFF! Gotta have faith, gotta have faiiithhh!" She looked up to see Spike raise a calm eyebrow at her before sitting down beside her.  
  
"'Lo, pet."  
  
"Hi, Spike."  
  
"Good singing."  
  
"Not too bad yourself. Gotta love classics all punked up." She rolled her eyes at the Scoobies. "Do you care what they think?"  
  
"Not particularly, why?" Ginny smirked and then flung herself into his arms, knees straddling his hips and smashing her mouth on his in a brutal kiss.  
  
"That's why." He was gazing up at her with something akin to amazement. "That was hello, remember?"  
  
"Flame, you can say hello to me like that, anytime." He leered at her, and she laughed throatily before her head swung around to look at the horrified Scoobies disdainfully.  
  
"I spent the last five years sighing after the golden boy. Let me have my fun with the bad boy now. And he's such a wicked looking spunk. Why are all the good looking guys dead, gay or taken?"  
  
"You've got me duster, pet."  
  
"I need one. It's gorgeous." Ginny leant back and shimmied out of it. She could sense that guy, Xander was his name, his eyes on her. She smirked. "So. When they figure out how I get home, you wanna come with? Or if they never do, can I stay with you?"  
  
"Can you stay with me, what?"  
  
"Can I stay wit' you, please?" She batted her eyes at him, and he broke into laughter. After a beat, she joined him, collapsing on his chest and snickering.  
  
"Is anyone else getting a wiggins here?" She heard Buffy whisper loudly, and Ginny raised her head enough off Spike's chest to send a very bloodcurdling snarl the Slayer's way.  
  
"I'm impressed, luv." Ginny winked at him, before wriggling around so she was laying full length across him and the back of her head cradled in the hollow between his arm and neck. "That was a very big bad snarl."  
  
"Goodo. Been sick of being a mouse. Doormat Ginny. Have a crush on Harry, Ginny. Shoo, Ginny, the big people are talking now. Ginny, don't you worry your pretty little red head about it," she said in a whining falsetto. "Ginny, stay away from the big bad Slytherins. Ginny, you can't know those words. Ginny, stay a little girl forever, cos heaven forbid I should grow up and embrace the darkness." Spike chuckled against her head.  
  
"You're doing a good job of it, pet."  
  
"Blech. Do gooders make me wanna vomit. All self-righteous and so forth. Soooo bored with it." She started to hum under her breath. "So bored now. I need to style my hair something awful. They don't have any styling wax or good gel. And my Goth makeup. Black, black, black. I have a black cat, who's really a demon, I'm sure. Him and the Slytherin four are the only things I'm missing. You look like one of them actually. And sound like my wolf. Well, not really my wolf but he's all grrr about me so there."  
  
"Should I be jealous, pet?"  
  
"Mordred's gay, so no. He'd probably like you and wanna steal you though. Draco you might need to be wary of, cos he's straight but we play the flirtation game very well. Shocks the socks off my brother, especially when I play with Blaise and Vortigern at the same time. Not that Vortigern needs to say hardly a thing. He just thee's and thou's and speaks the High English very well indeed. Pulls it off too. Blaise is a bit Seer-ish I think, so many mystic comments. Slightly off putting if you don't know 'im. And all of them spunks of the first order." Ginny took a breath. "I get so many death stares now, it's exceedingly funny."  
  
"Ahem, can we continue researching now?" Ginny sighed noisily at the Watcher's tone.  
  
"I really don't think you'll find anything. But if you can find a way to keep Tom outta my head, I'll be hella grateful."  
  
"Hopefully not as grateful as you are to me, pet."  
  
"Well, Fang boy, take a look at you, then take a look at him. Really not into sleeping with father figures." Spike lost it there and then, and Ginny raised an eyebrow wickedly at the Scoobies while Giles stared at her open- mouthed and blushing. "And one more to the red head, while the good guys have yet to score."  
  
"I like her," Anya said firmly. "Can we keep her?"  
  
"Honey, I really don't think." Xander stuttered.  
  
"You couldn't afford me. I'm *very* expensive in upkeep." Ginny waggled her eyebrows at the woman, who laughed.  
  
"I really like her. She takes the focus off me and my sometimes badly timed comments."  
  
"Well, someone besides the evil vampire likes me. I must be doing something wrong." Ginny sighed and cuddled back into Spike, who started nuzzling at her neck. "Biting comes later, when the de-chipping is done."  
  
"What?!" Xander leapt to his feet, eyes wide. "What are you on about?"  
  
"I need a big bad vampire protector. He fits the bill, except for the minor thing of the chip. Claim bite, and he'll protect me, he'll have to. We have this thing worked out, don't we, Spike?"  
  
"Should take you to see my Sire, but there is no fucking way he's exercising Droit de Seignur. He left me and Dru, should be bloody grateful I'm doing anything according to tradition." Spike broke off from his licking of Ginny's neck long enough to comment bitterly.  
  
"What?" Willow looked from Spike to Giles in horror. "Please say he didn't say what I thought he did?"  
  
"Rights of the Sire. Old vampiric tradition. Sire has first rights to anything captured, turned or claimed by his Childer," Spike told them bluntly. "But seeing as how peaches is all soul having, I really don't think he'll take me up on it."  
  
"And hello, witch here! Like anyone is biting me who I don't invite." Ginny raised a hand. "I have already sent the Slayer flying. Really not thinking a vampire poses much of a problem."  
  
"But this ain't any old vamp, Flame, this is Angelus."  
  
"Oh, that's right. Angelus didn't go poof! here."  
  
"Well, he did, but not in the way you mean," Spike said snarkily.  
  
"Spike clued me in a few things, and I figure that's where our dimensions diverged," Ginny told them as all of them registered surprise. "What? Like the big bad vampire isn't intelligent enough to help. I'm shocked and disappointed in you all." The Scoobies researched and occasionally Ginny threw more pointed barbs their way, usually aided and abetted by Spike. And they came up with nada, even after Ginny got up to help. Giles pushed back the book he was looking in after hours of researching and rubbed his temples tiredly. Ginny was falling asleep at the table, the shock and exertions catching up to her.  
  
"We'll continue tomorrow."  
  
"Why should we help her?" Buffy asked him angrily. "All she does is laugh at us and, ew, cuddle with *Spike*. Are you sure she's not a demon?"  
  
Ginny got up slowly, hands gripping the edges of the table. "Would you like to see my back? Cos I am sure I manoeuvred my way into coming here, without my friends, my family and my familiar, just to annoy you. I got my mind taken over by an evil *thing* that was once human, basically being raped, just so I could come here. Fuck you, Slayer. Fuck you up your stupid vanilla arse." Ginny's shoulders shook as she started to cry silently.  
  
"And how do we know what you've told us is true?" Buffy sneered. Ginny's head snapped up and she turned, flipping up her shirt that she'd been lent. Willow gasped at the angry red and weeping sores on Ginny's back.  
  
"They go all the way down to my ankles," Ginny said almost conversationally as she exhibited the signs of her passage through the dimensions. The younger members of the Scoobies gaped as she continued to stand there. Anya wasn't that bothered, she'd done worse then that. Willow was on the verge of tears, Xander was just shocked and Buffy was wondering uncomfortably if she'd gone too far. "I don't think they were really part of the spell, just Tom's way of making sure I'd be helpless once I reached the Hellmouth. Look a lot like whipmarks, don't they? I'm actually pretty sure they are. I nearly bled to death before Spike picked me up. He could have just let me die, and none of you would have known any different. He could have licked the blood from my body, gathered it from the floor, and let me die. He so easily could have," she said softly, and shook her head slightly in mild amazement. "He is a vampire, after all. I'm not unaware of what he is. He's not souled. He's just muzzled."  
  
"But still bloody evil, and none of you better forget it," Spike threw in from the couch.  
  
"Slayer wasn't going to let him in. I still could have bled to death there, on her front porch while she behaved like a spoilt child. He held me when I fainted. He is evil, yes, but not heartless." Ginny finally let the shirt drop, hissing slightly as the cloth fell against her sensitively sore skin. She wavered on her feet and placed one hand heavily on the table as she fought to center herself.  
  
"You alright, pet?" Spike inquired disinterestedly, but a tic in his jaw pronounced otherwise. Ginny nodded, breathing shallowly through her nose. He frowned. "Your heart's going like the clappers, Flame."  
  
Giles got to his feet slowly, forehead creased in concern. "Are you sure you're alright?"  
  
"I'll be fine. I'd be a lot finer if I could just go *home*!" Ginny covered her eyes with her free hand and forced the hysteria back down. If she started, she'd never stop. "I need to sleep before I collapse again."  
  
"We've got a spare bedroom," Buffy volunteered grudgingly. Ginny nodded as Buffy stood up. "Tomorrow night?"  
  
"Yes. I must say this is very fascinating, considering as far as we know you have no alternate self here. It must be because the dimensions diverged a long time ago." Giles trailed off as Ginny and Spike stared at him. "Well then. I'll see you all here tomorrow night, and we can continue researching."  
  
"Do I get paid, watcher?" Spike asked as he stood slowly, slipping his duster on over his arms.  
  
"Yes, yes, Spike." Suddenly, the door opened and there were three boys standing there, one of them hung between the two others, arms around their shoulders as they supported him. There was another guy behind them, obviously acting guard. They were all dressed in black robes. Ginny's mouth dropped open as Azrael darted into the room between their legs and leapt into her arms.  
  
"What, how, what?" She tightened her arms automatically around Azrael's purring body.  
  
Mordred blew the hair hanging over his eyes out of them. "Hey, Red. Thought we'd come by and say hello. And I am going to fucking kill you. We were very worried."  
  
"Shut up, Mordred, and let's get inside," Draco snapped as his eyes scanned the darkness.  
  
"I need to sit down," Blaise rasped. "That spell was too much, even with Azrael's help." Vortigern and Mordred shifted him slightly on their shoulders as he raised his head a little and the three stepped into the room, Draco still guarding their backs. "We came looking, babe. Did you really think we wouldn't?"  
  
"Oh my god." Ginny was still lost for words.  
  
"Can we put Zabini down? He's really not getting any lighter." Blaise laughed weakly as Mordred growled.  
  
"Indeed. Methinks thee needs must go on a slimming regime, Zabini," Vortigern added in his lilting voice, a complete contrast to Mordred's husky, hoarse one.  
  
"Don't make me laugh, please," Blaise protested. Draco chuckled as he stepped in after them and closed the door.  
  
"So. Where the hell are we anyway?"  
  
"Welcome to the Hellmouth," Ginny said with a smile as she carefully put Azrael down, and then rushed into their arms. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you four!" Blaise and Vortigern hugged her briefly and then Mordred and Draco did as well.  
  
"Enough with the sap. What the fuck do you mean, Hellmouth? Last one closed in the 1800's. Bloody vampires." Mordred commented, and Spike snarled.  
  
"Watch it, mate."  
  
"I'm not your anything, let alone your mate, bleach boy," Mordred snarled back. Ginny choked back a laugh.  
  
"Ease up, wolf. He *is* a vampire." All four of the Slytherins whipped out their wands, Blaise visibly swaying on his feet. "Chill, guys. He's muzzled. And nice, in an evil way."  
  
"I'm the Big Bad, and you better not forget it, Pixie," Spike growled. Ginny laughed as she stepped out of their circle. Vortigern and Mordred led Blaise to the couch and sat him down on it.  
  
"I suppose I should do introductions," Ginny said wryly.  
  
"Why not?" Draco agreed. Mordred had been looking from Spike to Draco, and then started to snicker.  
  
"What are you laughin' about?" Spike asked nastily.  
  
"You look almost exactly like our dragon," Mordred said between snickers. "And that in itself is just bloody amusing."  
  
"Indeed, there is a certain resemblance," Vortigern mused. "As usual, brother mine, you have picked it aright."  
  
"The funny thing is he looks like Draco, but sounds like you, wolf," Ginny said as she wavered on her feet. In a flash, Spike was at her side, offering her his shoulder. Ginny leant on it thankfully as one of his arms went around her waist to support her. Mordred's eyebrow went up.  
  
"Well, aren't you the fast worker then? You've been in this dimension, what, a day at the most, and already you've got a spunk looking after you."  
  
"Shut up, wolf. You're just jealous." A smile played over Ginny's lips.  
  
"Damn straight, I'm jealous. Or maybe I should say, damn bent?" Mordred smiled lazily.  
  
"You are such a male whore, Mordred," Draco laughed.  
  
"Oh, like you haven't been eyeing off the blonde and the red head since we walked in, mate?" Mordred threw back. Draco grinned.  
  
"You know me too well, but I need to get my kicks elsewhere, seeing as how Ginny refuses to fall for my charm."  
  
"I'm smart, that's why," Ginny said teasingly.  
  
"Oh, I'm wounded, I am. I'm not that bad." Draco placed a hand over his heart.  
  
"Yeah right, Prince of the Slytherin house. I've been warned by my brothers about Slytherins." Ginny tilted her head and then said thoughtfully, "which *is* why I took up with you guys in the first place. I've been rather rebellious this year."  
  
"Is that what you call it? I'd call it waking up to the sheer stupidity inherent in the Gryffindor house," Draco said, and then he placed his hands together. "As fun as our verbal sparring is, I think we better tell them who we are before the little blonde over there decides to throw that stake. Not that it would connect, mind you, but I would end up being *very* upset. Things tend to go up in flames when I do that. I'm Draco Malfoy, the guy on the couch is Blaise Zabini, Mordred and Vortigern Pendyrwyrdd."  
  
"They're twins, believe it or not," Ginny added.  
  
"Twins? Say it like it is, Red. We're the one person in two bodies." Mordred ran his hands through his hair, making it wilder as Vortigern gazed around calmly.  
  
"How did you get here anyway?" Ginny asked something that had been puzzling her. Blaise raised a hand from the couch.  
  
"That would be me, and the why? That's a bit harder and more complicated to explain." 


	13. New arrivals

The three Slytherins had looked at each other, rage flickering through their eyes, and then Blaise had run in. "We need to go, now. My line has not hidden ourselves and our gift for the past thousand years to let Voldemort stuff things up now. She will come back, she will win, and she will set the world on fire. It is foretold." They had gaped at him, and Blaise rolled his eyes. "We don't have time for this. The spell will be hard to find, and then to set up. C'mon!" Blaise turned on his heel and ran out again. The other Slytherins shared a look, and then ran after him.  
  
Blaise's feet pounded on the stone floors of Hogwarts, gaining stares. His face was set in an expression of determination as he made his way to the door of the Gryffindor common room. He slid to a halt and the other three barely stopped in time.  
  
"What the fuck are you on?" Mordred growled. Blaise didn't even turn around.  
  
"We need Ginny's cat. Get Hermoine," he demanded of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Well, I never!" The portrait sounded highly scandalized.  
  
"Listen, there's no time. It's running out as quickly as Ginny's blood. Do you wish to be responsible for her death? You will be if you thwart us, because if we don't go after her, she will be dead." Blaise's voice was coolly demanding. The others listened with rising respect. They'd never seen this side of Zabini before. He'd always been the lightly joking one, always in control of his emotions and definitely a follower, never a leader.  
  
"What are you four doing here? The Slytherin common room is down in the Dungeons," Harry said tightly as he came up. Blaise stared at the portrait, and the other Slytherins didn't spare Harry a glance. "Ginny's in the Infirmary-"  
  
"No, she's not. We need Azrael to get her back," Blaise bit out. A sound of high-pitched wailing was coming from behind the portrait, and then it flung open and Azrael shot through. "The cat knows it. C'mon, Azrael." He turned to set off for the Dungeons, then paused, turned back around, strode up to Harry and placed a beautiful uppercut on the underside of Harry's jaw. Harry went flying from the force of it, and by the time he got up, Blaise was gone. Mordred stood over Harry for a moment, looking thoughtful.  
  
"You know, this never would have happened if you'd just gone out with her." With that last comment, he joined the other Slytherins on the way to the Dungeons. Blaise was rushing around the dorm room when they got back to the dorms, tearing the place apart as he searched.  
  
"I thought we had more time! Time, time, time. Fickle bitch." Blaise dug in his dresser. "I know I put it here, somewhere." Azrael was sitting on Blaise's bed, watching the guy throw clothes into the air. "Bloody book!" Draco dodged a textbook as it hurtled past his head.  
  
"What are you going on about, Zabini? Have you gone absolutely mad?"  
  
"I haven't gone mad. I can see again, at long last. I found the Soul in Halves, the Dragon Prince, one of her two Guardians, I *am* the one of the Seer's Blood, and she is the Phoenix, the Catalyst of the Age." Blaise paused for barely a moment, before returning to his frenzied searching. "The Zabinis are Seers, always have been, always will be. A long, long time ago, we saw this sequence of events coming and prepared for it. We hid our Sight from the world, and even from ourselves so that we could do what I and my father have done." The words poured out rapidly. "Join the prophesied Dark Lord for the express purpose of finding the one that would be his ruin. Send the world up in flames, and turns things upside down so that lives would be changed and the world become a new place." He laughed. "This *will* be fun. Ah! Found it." He brandished a small, brown leather- bound book and then started off to the Potions room. "We really don't have much time. He'll have sent her tripping. We need to find her before she trips out again. We may never come back, but we need to go. I'd like to bring some of her stuff with us, but the Gryffindors won't let us in. We need to go, now or soon. She'll be lost, otherwise."  
  
"What the fuck?" Mordred growled. Blaise just rolled his eyes.  
  
"Look, do you want to save the little red head, or not? It's all simple."  
  
Mordred and Vortigern shared a glance, then Mordred nodded sharply. "We're in."  
  
"What about you, Dragon Prince?" Blaise asked Draco. He scowled, and then sighed.  
  
"What choice do I have? She dies, and the world ends according to you. I like this world. I would prefer it in one piece." They all set off, faces grim and black robes swirling as Azrael stalked ahead of them. Quickly and efficiently Blaise set up the space for the spell.  
  
"This may end up a little bit out of whack. I don't know how fast time passes in comparison to us, but we can't go yet. We must wait for the space to settle, the energies to draw into the circle and so on. God, this is so complicated." Blaise ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "What will happen is already seen, but not the ending. We could still lose, even if we manage to bring her back."  
  
"We still needs must try," Vortigern said softly. "She is ours, and under our protection. There is a certain responsibility in that."  
  
"Someone fucks with one of us, they deal with all of us. After this is over, I'm going to fucking crucify the bastard."  
  
"So, we are agreed? We leave, we may not come back and we bring no others into this. There is no room for mistakes. Go and get what essentials you think you will need." Blaise settled back in a chair and closed his eyes. "I'll havta trigger the spell, so I can't carry anything and I'll be useless when we come out."  
  
"Cool. Let's go." Mordred left the room, Vortigern by his side. Draco paused for a moment, looking at Blaise.  
  
"This is why you got on so well with Ginny. You were both hiding something."  
  
"And the blond gets it in one. Now, shove off. I need to prepare." Draco grinned and headed out.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
They stood at four of the points of the pentacle, Azrael calmly sitting at the other. Blaise was white and shaking as he forced the elemental energies to take them through the dimensions, to the place where Ginny lay. White light slowly filled the room, beginning from a pinprick and then blazing through it in an ever-increasing ball of force. A wind started to blow, and Azrael fixed his claws into the floor. "Let the Guardian show the way. Let the night be bright as day," Blaise read out from the book, fighting to keep his place as the pages fluttered. "Bastet. Osiris. Re. Hear your child's plea. Help us pass by your laws. Help us find the light. Help us find the burning flame." The light swelled, covering them all and then they disappeared from Hogwarts.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
They hit grassy ground and slowly got to their feet. Well, everyone but Blaise. He was shivering and convulsing as the backlash of the spell rode through him, and then the shaking stopped and he opened his eyes. "We need to move quickly," he rasped. "Azrael, show the way." Vortigern and Mordred picked him up and put his arms around their shoulders. Draco drew his wand and they set off to follow the black cat through the darkness. Azrael led them to a crypt, and Draco kicked the door of it open. The pool of blood on the floor did not bode well. Azrael wailed angrily, then set off again, clearly impatient with the men's speed. They dusted a few vampires on the way, and then Azrael set off at right angles to the course he'd been following before.  
  
"The cat is fucking crazy," Mordred muttered.  
  
"He's our only guide," Vortigern answered Mordred's misgivings. Soon, they stood outside a house, and Draco tapped the lock with his wand.  
  
"Alohomora." The door swung open, and Azrael darted in. Draco had returned to his self-appointed task of lookout, and then Mordred spoke, eyes taking in the surprised faces of those inside. 


	14. Hellmouthy

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Ginny spoke, breaking the shocked silence that had come over the room. Blaise raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Kidding you? I wish," Blaise said tiredly. "Although you've managed to end up well, our families will be drawing fire. At least you've found your second Guardian, and the whole prophecy makes more sense now."  
  
"Let's hear this prophecy then." Ginny crossed her arms. Blaise looked at her face, and heaved an even deeper sigh.  
  
"Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm about to collapse on the floor in a heap, right about now." Ginny frowned, and then nodded.  
  
"Fine, but I am so not appreciating these games, Blaise."  
  
"Games? Oh, now that's just precious. You think this is a game?" Blaise got to his feet, face white with exhaustion but eyes burning with anger. "This is not a game, little girl."  
  
"Don't you dare call me a little girl," Ginny hissed as she stepped away from Spike.  
  
"Then don't act like one!" Blaise yelled at her. "Act like the person you were born to be! Act like the goddess you will become! Stop playing around, because otherwise *all* the universe ends! Every dimension will blink out. Every soul in existence, it will be as if nothing had ever happened, ever." Blaise swayed on his feet, shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of him. "*Everything* will end. All that ever was, all that ever is, and all that will ever be." His eyes were wide and unfocused, and then they started to glow with a white light as he crumpled to his knees, mouth tight with pain but silent.  
  
"Blaise!" Ginny flew to his side. His eyes tracked over to her as she knelt beside him.  
  
"Dear god. No. I can See, and what they show me, I wish I had never had my Gift unlocked." He bowed his head. "God, what pain it is to be a Seer. I never knew." He threw his head back, mouth stretched in a silent scream. Ginny stroked his head comfortingly. This looked like what she went through when Tom decided to come and play. His breath was coming in uneven gasps, and his eyes were still glowing. And then his eyes closed and he collapsed. Ginny caught him and lowered him to the floor as he moaned softly.  
  
"What the fuck was that?" Mordred whispered in shock. "I've seen Seers before, and they've *never* gone through that, that pain."  
  
"He said his Gift was locked away before," Draco murmured. "Maybe that had something to do with it. Like water building up behind a wall. When the wall is broken, the water rushes out violently." Ginny listened with half an ear as she cradled Blaise's head in her lap. Spike growled possessively, and she looked up with a smile.  
  
"Easy there, Big Bad. He's my friend. He did the same for me the first time Tom decided to talk a walk through my mind." Ginny ran her fingers through Blaise's sweat heavy hair and his eyes flickered open.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Christ, we are so fucked up," Mordred said heavily, then he looked around at the Scoobies. "Just out of interest, since you're not looking all that shocked, does weird shit happen on a daily basis to you too?"  
  
"Is it Tuesday? Then there's another apocalypse," Buffy quipped, shrugging her shoulders.  
  
"Well, this is definitely more wiggins making then the usual though," Xander said. "I'm Xander."  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"Willow."  
  
"Anya."  
  
"Rupert Giles." He was cleaning his glasses hard. Ginny looked up at Buffy.  
  
"Has he ever rubbed a hole through them? Cos, he seems to polish his glasses an awful lot." The Scoobies shared a look, then started to laugh, breaking the tension that had sprung up.  
  
"We're waiting for the day," Xander said, and Giles glared. "Hey, G-man, you know it's true."  
  
"Don't call me-"  
  
"That insufferable name!" The Scoobies finished for Giles.  
  
"Are we done now? I want Xander to give me orgasms," Anya said. Xander rolled his eyes in embarrassment.  
  
"Yes, we're done," Giles said. "Except, I don't know where everyone's going to stay." Ginny was biting her lip, and then looked up.  
  
"Spike, your crypt.how big is it?"  
  
"Oh, you can't stay in a crypt," Willow protested.  
  
"It's plenty big, pet," Spike said, ignoring Willow's interruption. "Big enough for the five of you, anyway."  
  
"Fine. Would you mind?"  
  
"Not at all, pet." Spike's eyes were dangerously hooded. "But we will discuss some things outside."  
  
"I don't go back on my word, Spike," Ginny said firmly. Spike ran his eye over her and nodded sharply.  
  
"What have you done, Ginny?" Draco asked softly, voice thrumming with tension. Ginny threw him a tired glance. "Outside. Like he said. Can we go then?" Draco stalked over to the door and slipped outside as Ginny helped Blaise to his feet. She hissed softly as his arm fell against her back. Vortigern took Blaise from her, dark eyes clouded with worry.  
  
"Let me take him. What pained thee so, lovely?" Mordred flipped up the back of her shirt before she could reply to Vortigern's question.  
  
"Fuck! Oh, I am going to fucking kill him!" Mordred whirled on his heel, fists clenching as he fought back the urge to rip into something and destroy it. He looked at Spike. "Know something I can kill? I need to make something *hurt*. Need to hunt."  
  
"Brother, calm thyself." Vortigern stretched out a hand and Mordred batted it away with a snarl.  
  
"Don't even fucking try! She's *ours*! Pack! I am so fucking angry, I could burn this whole town to ashes, and not give a damn. I would fight them all, just to watch them bleed!" He indicated the room of Sunnydale people with a furious sweep of his arm. He spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, lips lifted from his teeth in a feral snarl. Draco let him go, knowing there was no reasoning with Mordred in this state. A vampire tried to attack him, and Mordred ripped it to pieces before it dusted. He stood there, panting, for a moment as the other students and Spike came out of Giles's place. He raised his head, and snarled at them. Spike growled back, and Mordred howled in challenge. "Come and try to take me, mate!"  
  
Vortigern stepped up as a substitute, eyes sad. "Brother, battle with me instead."  
  
"Vort, I can't." Mordred backed away, his eyes gleaming in the illumination of the streetlights, shaking his head. "Not you."  
  
"Take out thy anger on me, my brother. We are naught but one person in two skins. I understand thee as no other can, and I wilt not let thou commit actions that thee wilt regret."  
  
"*No*, Vort. Just fucking, no!" Mordred turned and ran. Straight into the arms of another vamp. He ripped its heart out of its chest, and the surprised vampire dusted, covering Mordred's face in dust. Mordred stared around, then threw his head back and howled into the night, his eyes darkening from blue to black.  
  
"Jesus Christ," Draco whispered. "This can not be good."  
  
"Understatement of the century there," Ginny whispered back.  
  
"Hey, what's going on? We heard-" Buffy stuck her head out of the door, and Mordred's head swung to face her.  
  
"Slayer," he hissed, and started to move. Vortigern tackled Mordred, bearing him to the ground, tears silently making their way down his face from his brown eyes.  
  
"Nay!" They rolled on the ground, almost silent except for Mordred's snarls and the faint sounds of Vortigern's weeping. Vortigern finally knocked Mordred out with a particularly vicious blow to the back of the head, and then just sat there and cried, cradling his twin in his arms. He looked like an angel in pain, face white like marble and golden hair falling softly around his face, mussed with sweat and tears. "I cannot believe this. What is it about this place that calls to the baser nature in all?"  
  
"It's a Hellmouth, Vort," Ginny said sadly. "That's kinda in the description."  
  
"He's never been this bad before. Never. Not even when-" Vortigern snapped his mouth closed and rocked harder. Draco and Blaise shared a look, and then went to help them up.  
  
"What's with the look? There was a definite look, and demon!" Ginny dove to the side and Spike ripped into the slimy thing viciously.  
  
"Mine! She's fucking mine!" Each word was punctuated with a kick or a punch as he beat the demon to death. "Sod off! Mine, dammit!" His duster swirled around him in a frenzy generated by his whirlwind fighting. The demon gave up trying to fight back and just took the punishment until Spike eventually ripped its head off, and stood there, slime running down his fingers as his growls continued.  
  
"Well, that was fun. Not," Ginny commented wryly as she got up from the sidewalk.  
  
"You're bleeding again, pet," Spike said almost distantly as his head turned and he stared at her, golden eyes gleaming, face ridged with his demon. Buffy had come down the steps slowly, stake ready in her hand, and Spike raised his head to snarl at her. "Sod off, Slayer." Mordred was lolling loosely in Draco and Blaise's arms while Vortigern stared around as if his heart was dead. Ginny checked herself over; cataloguing scratches and scrapes from when she'd hit the sidewalk to dodge the demon.  
  
"As the vampire says, sod off," Vortigern snapped out. Ginny and the other Slytherins regarded him in surprise. Vortigern never even came close to swearing. "You set him off, you and your, your," Vortigern's hands clenched and unclenched as he fought for the words, "damn Slayer aura. Just, fuck off! We don't need you. We've never needed good people to help us. They've always been content to leave us in the darkness, lost and wandering. You and yours have come too little, too late. So, just skip on back to your golden life, pretty girl. Leave us be, bitch." Vortigern turned on his heel, face set as he took his twin from Draco and Blaise, striding off into the darkness.  
  
"Well, then." Spike blinked slowly.  
  
"That was rather unexpected," Draco said, and he regarded Buffy with mild surprise. "Is she a Slayer?"  
  
"Yes." Spike nodded, gazing after where the twins had disappeared.  
  
"Hmm." Draco shook himself out of his thoughtful mood, and started after Vortigern. Blaise limped after them and Ginny went to Spike's side, cleaning him off with a whispered spell and a wave of her wand.  
  
"Well, you're a right handy piece, aint'cha?" Spike grinned at her and slung his arm around her shoulder. "Now, I think you need to tell me about your friends." 


	15. Shocking the Slayer

Spike had led them down into the bottom half of his crypt. Vortigern, eyes shadowed with a deep soul weariness had curled up with Mordred like puppies in a heap, gold lying against jet, just watching but eyes drooping with tiredness. Soon, he'd given into it and their breathing had fallen into a quiet, relaxed rhythm; when one breathed in, the other breathed out. Draco and Blaise had stayed up talking for a little while longer, but Blaise had fallen first, exhausted by the spell and the walk, and the fighting. Draco had watched Spike run his black tipped fingers through Ginny's red hair, eyes burning with a type of angry hatred flavoured heavily with resignation.  
  
"So. What's the deal with you two?" Draco asked finally.  
  
"He's helped me, and I've promised to help him," Ginny dodged the issue, brown eyes sliding from his blue ones. Draco hissed angrily through his teeth.  
  
"Don't hide from me, Ginny. You promised you'd never hide from us." Spike wrapped his arm tighter around Ginny, and growled protectively. Ginny patted his arm.  
  
"It's all right, Spike. He's right, anyway." Ginny breathed in deep breath. "Spike's going to Claim me."  
  
"What?!" Draco yelped and shot upright from his lazy relaxed position on the floor. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Blaise murmured in his sleep, and Draco dropped his voice to a low fury filled icy whisper. "Do tell me you're joking, Ginny. You're playing with fire here."  
  
"I *know*, Draco. I know exactly what I'm doing," Ginny hissed back, back straightening and throwing off Spike's arms.  
  
"I don't think you really do. He's a *demon*. Nasty, evil, bloodlust crazed *demon*. Sure, he's muzzled at the moment, but later, later when he's not, you'll be dead." Draco ran his hands through his hair, spiking it up. "And when he does, we'll be there. Hopefully in time to save you. Maybe not. We haven't been that good at the rescue gig." His eyes flared with an old, remembered pain. "There will be fire, there will be never ending torture. Because in the end, death is just an escape. And we'll have children, and the broken bleeding thing that he will become and the duty that his agony has become will be passed onto them. Forever."  
  
"That was in no way obsessive or scary," Ginny commented, eyebrows rising.  
  
"I'm a Malfoy, Ginny. We never forget, and very rarely forgive," Draco said coldly.  
  
"Don't. Just.don't. I'm too tired tonight." Ginny turned from him and laid her head against Spike's silent chest. He cradled his head on top of hers and glared at Draco.  
  
"You are so bloody lucky I'm chipped, wanker."  
  
"Bite me, Spike. Oh, I forgot, you *can't*," Draco sneered as he laid back down, drawing his robes closer about him and closing his eyes.  
  
"Fine. Let's see how you cope when I let a demon eat you, nancy."  
  
"No, that would be Vortigern," Draco tossed back. Ginny giggled in spite of herself.  
  
"It's not funny, pet."  
  
"Nup, not funny at all," Draco agreed with Spike.  
  
"Oh, it's hilariously funny, but you probably can't see it." Ginny rolled away from Spike and snuggled down into his blankets. "G'night. I'm totally knackered." Her breathing slowed and Draco smiled wryly.  
  
"Look after her, or you will get into that endless centuries of torture I was warning you about."  
  
"Not planning on doing anything else, mate." Spike curled himself around Ginny's body and closed his eyes. She felt so right there, even more so then Dru. Warm and comforting. He listened to the slow and easy breathing matched with sleepy heartbeats of the mortals in his lair, and wondered. How in the bloody hell had they gotten here? He was *evil*, and proud of it. But one smile and a burning kiss from the redhead in his arms, and he'd fallen. Love's bitch, again. Taste of her blood and the wicked gleam of amusement in her brown eyes as she sent the Slayer flying. She'd *wanted* him. Claimed him. Just as he'd Claimed her. And not a sniff of his poofy Sire in sight. Finally, he wasn't second best. Spike smiled at that, pressed his face into the curve of her neck and slept.  
  
Ginny woke up and tried to stretch. Nope, that wasn't happening because she had a vampire attached to her. And he was cold. And somewhat dead. Ew. She opened her eyes and looked around. Draco was lying curled up in a heap of black robes and ruffled white hair, head cradled on his arm and face calm in peaceful dreaming. Blaise had somehow rolled between Vortigern and Mordred in the night and the three of them were tangled together in a pile, arms wrapped around each other, and heads lying black against gold against black. Azrael was curled up on the edge of Draco's robes, nearly invisible against the black material. She heard a sort of gasp behind her, and she knew Spike had woken up because he started kissing the back of her neck.  
  
"Mornin', pet."  
  
"Morning, Spike." She closed her eyes sleepily again. "Mmph. Tired."  
  
He chuckled lazily into her neck, tickling the sensitive skin. "I bet." Ginny shivered as his hand started to stroke her hip.  
  
"You know, kinda public here," she squeaked out. He chuckled again, low and husky.  
  
"I know, pet." His hand didn't stop moving. She squirmed, rubbing her jean clad ass against his denim covered thigh as the tingling heat built up. He hissed, and she grinned evilly. Good to know she wasn't the only one getting all hot and bothered here. Draco's eyes opened lazily, and he grinned as he stretched his arms up over his head, working some of the kinks out.  
  
"Morning. What say we go and disturb the Slayer's peace by asking her for breakfast and use of her bathroom?" Draco raised an eyebrow at Ginny, and she started to giggle as an idea leapt into her head.  
  
"What's so funny, pet?" Spike inquired as the three other guys woke up, untangling themselves.  
  
"I just had the most wicked idea to cause the Slayer serious heart failure."  
  
"Do tell, Virginia," Vortigern purred and Mordred hooked his chin over Vortigern's shoulder, holding his twin close and his other hand resting on Blaise's thigh.  
  
Ginny sat up in the bed, and looked around before starting to explain her plan. "See, it would go kinda like this. . ."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
After casting quite a few spells to shield Spike from the sun, they set off. Spike basked in the feeling of the sun on his face as the group made their way through Sunnydale. Thankfully, it was pretty early so no one blinked an eye at the sight of four guys dressed in long black robes, a redheaded girl in jeans and a loose white top and an older, punk-looking man in a black leather duster, all together in the same place and showing every sign of getting along famously. The cat that was obviously following the group may also have given them pause. But that was Sunnydale for you. As they rounded the corner into the Slayer's street, and walked up to her house, they decided to put the plan into action. The body language between them became much more sensual, and leant heavily on touching, occasional kisses and a few full open palm gropes. Ginny giggled in delight as Vortigern and Mordred made a fuss over Blaise, swinging easily into the usual flirting game they all played. Draco flirted right back at her, and even included Spike, which was a bit different. Spike raised his eyebrow in that way that was quickly sending her insane with lust, and played along with all of them but acting much more possessive with Ginny.  
  
Blaise and Mordred kissed, fingers lacing into each other's hair and then Vortigern got into it. Mordred raised his head and met Vortigern's mouth in a bruising kiss. Blaise was sandwiched between them, which Ginny guessed he really didn't mind. It looked sensational, anyway. Draco stepped backwards, eyes locked on the scene in front of him as he tugged Ginny up the steps. Spike followed, eyes gleaming with amusement as Draco knocked on the door.  
  
"Coming!" They heard Buffy say from inside the house, and Draco quickly moved forward, lifting Ginny so she locked her legs around Spike's waist and he slammed his lips on hers. Spike growled, and Draco lifted his head, eyes daring Spike to do it. Spike smirked and leant over to kiss Draco hungrily. Ginny leant her head back on Draco's shoulder as Spike's hands snaked up her top, Draco's hands holding her steady. "Oh my GOD!" A startled scream burst from Buffy's lips and then they heard a thud.  
  
"Well, that worked," Ginny gasped out as Spike and Draco lowered her to her feet. She was feeling a little dizzy and hot. Very hot. Sweaty and wet, in fact. She pressed her legs together, and Spike smirked at her.  
  
"All hot and bothered, Flame?"  
  
"Shut up, you." She slapped his arm lightly. Blaise, Mordred and Vortigern had stopped and walked up to their side by this point and the whole group observed with intense interest the passed out Slayer on the floor, just inside the front door of her house.  
  
"Why didn't I try that before?" Spike mused as they stepped over her body into the house.  
  
"You know, I really didn't think she'd pass out," Ginny said conversationally. Joyce was coming down the stairs slowly. "Hello, Mrs Summers."  
  
"Ginny, Spike. You're not. . ." Joyce hesitated, obviously looking for a way to put it diplomatically, "on fire."  
  
"Ginny's a witch, and her mates that followed her from her home dimension are wizards. The five of them figured out a few spells to keep me non- flamey."  
  
Vortigern stepped forward and raised Joyce's nerveless hand to his lips, bowing over it. "We are privileged to meet thee, lady. My name be Vortigern Pendyrwyrdd." He kissed her hand, before letting go and stepping back.  
  
"God, you are such a smarmy bastard. How we're brothers, I will never get. Mordred. His sodding twin, if ya can believe it." Joyce laughed at the sheer disgust in Mordred's voice.  
  
"Draco Malfoy. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Draco nodded.  
  
"Blaise Zabini. I never would have guessed the Slayer had such an attractive mother." Ginny chuckled as Blaise swept into full flirt mode.  
  
"Sod off, Zabini," Spike said in amusement.  
  
"Why for?" Blaise tilted his head to the side and grinned devilishly.  
  
"Cos, she's my mum too. Makes the best hot cocoa. Anyway, mum, the reason we came over was cos my crypt isn't exactly what you would call friendly to the living."  
  
"No food. No bathroom. We all need to shower. And, the guys will need some muggle clothes because school robes? Don't exactly fit in." Ginny smiled at the older woman.  
  
"Of course. I'll just set some towels out. Maybe if I ring Xander, he might have some clothes they could borrow." Joyce set off. "Get Buffy to help you make breakfast." Mordred turned to look at the still passed out Slayer.  
  
"I think we broke her," he announced solemnly, and they all cracked up. Mordred glared around at them, mock seriously. "What? We broke the fucking Slayer. I don't think that's gonna go down well with that Watcher guy. Or her mother. We need to fix her, quick!" Mordred's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.  
  
"I think thee had thy own part in her breaking, twin," Vortigern teased back. "Thou wert kissing me, after all."  
  
"But Spike had his tongue down Draco's throat. Draco, you sure you're straight?" Draco lazily flipped Mordred off as he sank down into the lounge, head leaning back and limbs spread wide. Ginny jumped into his lap, and he let her lay back against him, his eyes closed.  
  
"I'm straight as they come, mate," Draco drawled in an imitation of Mordred's accent. "But to make Ginny happy, I'm willing to snog a bloke."  
  
"Cos, everybody loves me!" Ginny said happily. Buffy got up off the floor slowly, and Spike decided to make the whole situation worse. He lay down on the couch, one arm possessively around Draco and Ginny, while tugging Blaise down onto his lap.  
  
"SPIKE!" Buffy pointed and screamed. "You, they, ahhh!" Spike licked up Blaise's neck, grinning evilly and leering at her.  
  
"I really do think we broke her good," Ginny said gleefully. "Go me and my evil, evilness!" She laughed, before pushing Blaise off Spike's lap. "Shove off, Blaise, that's my vampire."  
  
"You are of course aware that whole relationship is so wrong," Draco said dryly.  
  
"What? I gave up golden boys. And he's so delightfully bad ass, how could I refuse?" Ginny said cheerfully as she cuddled up to Spike, and Blaise picked himself up off the floor, wincing.  
  
"You know, still kinda sore here," Blaise griped.  
  
"Aw, the poor ickle Seer. Did the big bad girl hurt you?" Ginny cooed and fluttered her eyelashes. He half-heartedly scowled at her. Ginny just grinned, and fluttered harder as she put her feet in Draco's lap and lay her head down on the armrest of the couch. "Oh, I so win. I win everything." Mordred leant down and flipped her off the couch. "Ow!"  
  
"No, you don't." He smirked at her and Spike chuckled at Ginny's expression.  
  
"Grrr." Ginny glared at Blaise as he laughed. "What, all seeing one?"  
  
"Oh, nothing," Blaise gasped out as he tried to stop laughing.  
  
"Prithee, Virginia, perhaps thee shouldst go up and see that Madam Summers be well?" Vortigern suggested gently. He looked at Buffy consideringly. "Naught but a game, Slayer. Naught but a game. We play it well, nay?"  
  
"Game? That was a game?" Buffy said in a high-pitched voice.  
  
"Well, mostly," Draco drawled. "I'm very straight, so the Spike thing? Not gonna happen again."  
  
"Mordred and Vortigern play this a lot. But we're not the type to sleep and tell," Blaise added, winking.  
  
"Forsooth, Zabini, thee hast sent her back into shock," Vortigern said disapprovingly as Buffy placed her hands over her eyes. Ginny shrugged and headed upstairs.  
  
"I'm gonna grab a shower. Make the Slayer get you food."  
  
"Oh, now this will be good." Spike stretched out, lacing his hands together behind his head. "Be polite, ducks. Mum wanted you to anyway, you know, but you didn't hear her cos you were passed out at the time. Maybe I should have tried that." Spike mused. "Certainly a novel idea." Draco snickered.  
  
"We're Slytherins, Spike. We have a reputation for sneakiness, general underhandedness and activities of that nature. The founder of our house, Salazar Slytherin, was the black sheep of the Hogwarts Founders. Had a bit of an obsession with blood purity and so forth," Draco explained. "Our House symbol is a silver snake. Ginny could tell you more about some of it then even us, seeing as how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is the one taking a wander through her mind." His eyes flared with fury. "Why now? Why has he done nothing for five years, then bam!" Draco smacked his fist into his other hand. "All hell breaks loose."  
  
"Prophecy, dragon, prophecy." Blaise shook a finger at Draco semi- reprovingly. "We must not forget the gods damned prophecy. Gods play games with mortal men, or not so mortal men," Blaise half bowed to Spike, "and who be we to disturb their game playing?" He spread his hands in a type of acceptance. "But I have had my whole life to get used to the idea, and you've all been dumped into the middle of it. Honestly, I had no idea the Phoenix would be Ginny." Blaise looked around, eyes begging them to believe him.  
  
"You need to tell us the prophecy," Draco said quietly.  
  
"Later. The Slayer isn't part of it. We are all who really needs to know.for now." Blaise sank down onto his knees and sat back on his heels. "We may decide otherwise later. But once we all know, we will have a few things to do. One, unmuzzle Spike. Two, go see his Sire. Ginny *must* be Claimed, there is no alternative. And the prophecy skips around, saying that if this happens, this must happen, but if that happens then another course of action must be followed." Blaise looked very tired. "I can see the twisting paths, and when a choice must be made, I can only guide onto the right one. All of you must choose aright, otherwise we lose, and everything else loses as well. Janus of the Two Faces has chosen us to tread his winding tracks, and he is not called the Lord of the Twisted Paths and the Crossroads for nothing."  
  
"Well, aren't you just mister cryptic guy today?" Mordred raised an eyebrow. "And what's all this talk of ancient gods?"  
  
"We may have disavowed their existence, but they never disavowed ours. Merely because *we* do not believe, does not mean that somewhere in the dimensions, there is someone who does." Blaise stood and walked over to the kitchen, running his hand through still sleep mussed hair. "I need a cup of tea."  
  
"So, that's not just a stereotype that Giles fulfils?" Buffy headed over to the kitchen to help Blaise. 


	16. Of prophecies, spankings and insanity

After everyone had had a shower, breakfast and so forth, they sat down in the Slayer's kitchen and looked solemnly at each other. Blaise sighed and his shoulders slumped as everyone's eyes turned to him. "I can't tell it all, alright? I can tell you some, but if I tell too much, we lose. I tell too little, we lose."  
  
"So, the basic assessment of the situation is that we're totally fucked?" Draco asked dryly.  
  
"Well, I wouldn't say totally, but yes. That is the basic assessment of the situation." Blaise bobbed his head in agreement, then put it down on his folded arms, leaning his forehead against the cool surface. Ginny patted the back of his head, and Azrael jumped onto the table. Buffy leapt to her feet.  
  
"Whoa! Cat, on the table."  
  
"Now that you've stunned us with your vocabulary, blondie, sit down," Mordred sneered. Azrael wrapped his tail around his feet, tilting his head slightly to the side and looking around. Seeming to come to a decision, he stalked over to where Ginny was sitting between Blaise and Spike and meowed demandingly.  
  
"Yes, Azrael. I know. Bad Ginny, leaving you all alone to the hands of the Gryffindors." Azrael mewed again, voice high and wavering as he obviously scolded her. Ginny rolled her eyes. "I didn't exactly have a choice." Azrael hissed at her for that, back arching and fur rising. "Azrael." His shoulders lowered and he flinched back, mouth emanating warning growls. Ginny hissed back, and he snarled.  
  
"Well, isn't this intriguing to watch?" Blaise quipped, and both turned to fix him with a deadly glare.  
  
"We're discussing something here, Blaise. He happens to disagree with the way I handled the matter," Ginny said icily, and then hissed at her cat again, mouth open and teeth bared. Azrael looked more stubborn, if anything, and his claws gripped at the wood of the table as he yowled back.  
  
"The Guardian of Night. Both Guardians will pledge their allegiance to the Phoenix in gratitude, yet the Guardian of Demons will also be in power over the Phoenix. The Flame must be restrained until the time is right, and then the worlds shall burn. Alight in flames of restoration, the Joining will be complete. The Phoenix, the Dragon Prince and the Guardian of Demons shall become one, as the One in Halves are rejoined," Blaise recited, eyes glowing for a moment, then he looked around. "I said a prophecy, didn't I?"  
  
"Uh, think so, yeah," Ginny said.  
  
"Goddamn. Why does it always sound like a heap of mystic mumbojumbo? Why can't the Powers That Be just give it to us plainly?" Blaise said in frustration.  
  
"Because then it would not be near as amusing watching us scrabble with the snippets they deign to gift us with," Vortigern sighed, then looked around. "Whyfore dost we still hesitate? We have much to do before Zabini can conjure us home."  
  
"We need transport," Ginny said bluntly.  
  
"I have a set of wheels," Spike volunteered, before continuing, "but we'll head up to LA tomorrow."  
  
"Why?" Ginny asked the vampire. His eyes narrowed.  
  
"Because I said so, pet. All your.friends need some new clothing, and you all still need a rest." Spike's tone made it very clear this discussion was over.  
  
"You're being rather altruistic, Spike. Why is that?" Spike looked at Buffy lazily.  
  
"Cos, Slutty, they're going to take the bloody chip out of my head."  
  
"Freed from unnatural restraints, the Guardian of Demons shall confront the one named Sire and the Angelic One shall have peace. The Wandering Ones curse shall be fixed and lo, the demon and soul become one, no longer in absolute conflict. It shall be as it were meant to be." Blaise shook his head as the glow departed again. "You know, that really is becoming disconcerting," he complained, "we need to get something to record those."  
  
Vortigern held up a quill and parchment. "Already done."  
  
"That have any meaning to you?" Mordred asked Spike.  
  
"Yeah." Spike crossed his arms as Azrael turned his golden-eyed gaze on him. "And what's up with the sodding cat?" He said as the cat started sniffing him. Azrael hissed at the insult and scratched Spike across the face. "Bloody hell!" Azrael fled to under the couch as Spike got angrily to his feet, one hand to his quickly healing cheek.  
  
"Like you're not going to be healed in five minutes anyway. You insulted the cat. Don't do it." Mordred shrugged. "We don't have to be stupid just because we're evil. That cat is *vicious*." Azrael purred from under the couch, sticking his head out warily.  
  
"I'm sure he's pleased at the comment. Azrael, Spike. William the Bloody, meet Azrael, my personal demon familiar." Ginny put her hand down to Azrael's and cooed to him. Azrael sauntered out and sniffed her fingers, deigning to give them a dainty lick. "Most people dismiss cats. Mistake. If I manage to figure out this spell I was reading, it could turn out to be their *last* mistake."  
  
"Do tell, o beauteous maid," Vortigern purred, leaning forward on the table. Spike growled almost inaudibly. "Oh, thou dost have the most filthy suspicions, vampire. I do not long solely for the company of the maidens fair. Thee, on the other hand." Vortigern sighed. "Virginia is beautiful, but no. I prefer blondes to redheads."  
  
"What was the name of that guy, back in, oh god, it was Somerset, wasn't it?" Mordred stretched his hands above his head, corner of his mouth stretching upwards in a lustfully nostalgic grin. "Such a *nice* arse."  
  
"I believe his name was Daniel." Vortigern glanced over at Buffy. "What, thou dost not share? Sometimes sharing be half the fun."  
  
"And since we're really the same person, what's the big fucking deal?" Mordred shrugged. "I play the big bad rebel, and he plays the coolly refined Machiavellian villain. It's a good bit of role-play. But I forget, you're a vanilla girl. No fun kinky BDSM for *you*, luv. You never did return that set of handcuffs by the way, Zabini. Were they fun?"  
  
Blaise grinned. "My friend appreciated them very much."  
  
"No sex implied?"  
  
"Well, there was lots of sex involved, but no. I'm not giving you that big a clue. Suffice to say that they like to feel dominant occasionally." Blaise sighed wistfully, eyes going distant. "God, I want to go home."  
  
"Same here. This reality bites."  
  
'Sometimes literally." Blaise glanced meaningfully at the vampire at the table, and the Hogwarts people cracked up. "Ok, that wasn't really that funny." Blaise leant his elbow on the table, hiding his eyes in his hand, then looked up over his fingers. "But somehow, it really, really was. It will never work again, but yes, it was that funny."  
  
"So, plan of action. One, spell research to remove Spike's chip. Two, me, Ginny and Spike head up to LA. Three, we do the thing on the prophecy and fix the Angelic One's soul. Then we come back to Sunnydale, and figure out how to get home. And then?"  
  
"We go and kick some arse!" Mordred leapt to his feet and punched a hand in the air. "Yes! Finally. What?" He asked as they looked at him. He sat down again, dangerous smile on his face as he anticipated the violence to come.  
  
"But first, we need some history. Explain what obviously sparked during Zabini's foretelling. Tell, or we leave," Draco hissed, face closing down. Ginny made a move to say something and he cut her off. "Malfoy, Virginia. This is not something that is up for discussion. If I have to, I will kill the Slayer, dust the vampire and knock you out to get you home safe." Spike and Draco shared a glance of understanding over Ginny's head.  
  
"So, the Dragon Prince comes into his own. We all have to grow into our roles." Blaise nodded slowly while Buffy gaped in shock.  
  
"Everything spirals on. Further and further, and where it stops, we don't know," Ginny said quietly, and then laughed suddenly. "God, this brings back memories."  
  
"Chamber?"  
  
"Chamber." She nodded in response to Draco's question. "Nasty little diary thing. Ooh, there's an idea." She bounced in her seat. "Do you mind awfully if I give your father to Spike?"  
  
"As long as I get to kill him, that's fine with me." Draco smiled nastily.  
  
"Can we help?" Vortigern asked with interest. Mordred nodded, eyes glowing with fury.  
  
"We have a score to settle as well."  
  
"And don't we have just the most lovely fucked up home lives?' Blaise said drolly. "We're lucky we've come out more or less unscarred."  
  
"Speak for yourself. Lucius gave me a rather vicious one across my back from his belt. It just has this rather curved, spiked end to it, you see," Draco mused. "I think it was because I used the wrong fork at dinner." He shook his head slightly. "No, the scar for that came when I was five, and is on my stomach. Why do you think I wear long robes? Because I *like* the things? No. That's to hide the incidental scarring that comes from living in the Malfoy household. Affection is something that has no place within those walls. Only perfection, cold and absolute."  
  
"Oh my god. . ." Buffy said softly. Draco sat bolt upright, uncoiling from his relaxed slump in the chair.  
  
"Don't you dare pity me. Pity any of us. You pity us, and I'll rip your tongue out by the roots." Draco sat back down, the flare of his anger departing swiftly, but eyes still holding a residual glow.  
  
"So, did everyone get enough to eat?" Joyce said cheerfully as she moved into the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah, thanks." "Fantastic." "Yes." "Indeed." "It was great." A chorus of replies greeted her. She smiled.  
  
"That's good. Well, I called Xander and he'll be round with some changes of clothing."  
  
"Smashing," Blaise drawled, and Draco shot him a look. "Why not live up to the stereotype, old boy? It amuses the colonials so very much." Buffy laughed, and he grinned. "You do see what I mean, don't you, chap? Absolutely spiffing, tally ho. Dear god, someone stop me," he deadpanned, face showing no emotion but the ones who knew could see the sly amusement in his dark eyes.  
  
"He's been taken over. Someone, save him, please," Draco said drolly, crossing his arms. "He's possessed. Oh no, how will we ever cope?"  
  
"He's crossed over to the dark side of the force. Dear god, no," Mordred said in a monotone.  
  
"What will we do?" Ginny said in high, ditzy voice, and fluttered her eyelashes. "Oh, what ever will we do?" They all collapsed into laughter, the people of this dimension eyeing them strangely. "Your minds obviously do not work in the same rarefied realms as ours," she said loftily, then ruined it by giggling.  
  
"Riigghhtt," Spike drawled. "You're all mad as hatters. Is that a side effect of dimension travelling, cos if it is, I'll stay right here."  
  
"We were like this before we came," Draco shrugged.  
  
"So, it's the magic, right?"  
  
"Nah, just us. We're all fucking nuts, or we would have just let Ginny die. Pissing off the guy who holds your life and anyone you have a shred of affection for in his hands *is* fucking crazy, mate," Mordred said huskily, and then laughed hollowly. "We're all fucking mad." Blaise held his hand up and Mordred high fived it.  
  
"Bonkers. The whole blooming lot of us." 


	17. Author's note

Despite not having updated this story in a while, I have actually written a lot more chapters. And yes, as one person so nicely inquired as to whether it would happen, they have moved onto 'shagging'. Due to 's policy regarding this type of material, I have posted the remainder of this story on my website.

If you click the little linkie thing below, you will be taken to the rest of the story. There is some semi-explicit sex. There be slash. However, it is not of long duration and I hope, tastefully written. If you would like to read the rest of the fic, please continue. Otherwise, thank you for reading and may I suggest you go to my website anyway? There are at least five stories up there that I will not put on because I am not submitting new stories 

Licks and hisses, DitzCat.


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